


The Wilds Within Stone Walls

by Skogsnymfen



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/F, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Lore hunting, Original Character(s), Relationship(s), Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Vampires, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:21:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25096018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skogsnymfen/pseuds/Skogsnymfen
Summary: Left to fend for herself in the woods to escape the Scourge of Beasts just a her fatherhood fell to beasthood, she struggles to survive the elements and the ever-present monsters before being taken by Queen Annalise's huntsmen as a sacrifice. Spared by the peculiar circumstances of her past, she joins forces with Lady Maria in her endeavor bring down the Healing Church and atone for her wrongdoings.
Relationships: Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower/Original Female Character, The Hunter/Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. One Winter Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fiction story I've written in a decade, so be nice! This form of writing isn't my usual fare and I'm still getting a feel for dialogue, story pacing, and smithing a narrative. I recently played through Bloodborne and I found the world and its story so profoundly compelling that I just had to bring some of the characters to life somehow. I was particularly drawn to Lady Maria as a tender-hearted, but tough and tragic figure. And of course we need some more lesbian fiction out there! This will be quite a long story and I have the whole plot and every scene planned out in my mind, I just have to export it out of my brain.
> 
> I own nothing of the intellectual property, of course, I'm just playing with From Software's toys for entertainment purposes only for a while and I will put them back in the box when I'm done. Go buy the game if you haven't already and support the original artists!

The snow saturated wind howled menacingly against the meager wooden walls of the small remote cabin. Hunger weighted its lone occupant’s limbs like lead as the cold seeped deeper into her shivering flesh. She couldn’t even summon her internal flame to augment the capacity of the small, stubborn fire to warm herself. Death would surely claim her after this horrid night after having gone so long without sustenance. She had to go out. It seemed foolishly counter intuitive, but a primitive will deep within would simply not allow her to expire prone on the floor of her abode. There could be something in the abandoned and ruined forest village to the south. Anything. Even the fetid flesh of a beast could tempt her. Foraging in the fall had been especially poor as the animals fell prey to the swelling population of Scourge Beasts or migrated away from these cursed lands. This winter, too, was as if it bore a curse with its relentless chill. She willed herself up and pull on a beast hide cloak that offered the best protection from the elements and gnashing teeth of monsters with its coarse steel-grey fur and thick skin as well as an accompanying hood with gnarled antlers over her head. Taking her customary rucksack and daggers of honed bone, she faced the storm.

Squinting against the onslaught of ice shards stinging her face, she smelled fire. She wasn’t far from the old settlement now. Could someone have taken shelter there? Beasts feared flame and seldom tampered with it. An ember of hope began to quicken her steps towards its source. Dusk and storm winds revealed dilapidated, rotting wood homes and collapsing barns with the skeletons of the livestock they once sheltered as they all had starved or were eaten once their caretakers had succumbed to the curse. Everything here was devoid of life and silent as always, save for one house. Two curious carriages stood and two pairs of burly horses outside one of the least decayed homes as smoke rose through its chimney. It was uncommon to see a horse alive in these times, much less four. Where had they come from? She approached slowly and cautiously and saw that the carriage bore a sigil of the likes she had never seen before: A shield of two gryphons with their tails interlaced with fierce claws and gaping maws fending off any who dared to challenge their kinsmen. She felt dread settle in her stomach; marauders of an unknown faction. Gods know what their intentions could be in these parts. Despite crippling trepidation and every instinct screaming at her to simply turn her back on the wretched village, she lowered an eye to the keyhole and spied through it her quarry: eight supply satchels stuffed to the brim and the remains of men’s evening meal sloppily splayed out across the table. Her gaze wandered over to the eight lumps nestled in fur sleep-sacks on the sleeping motionlessly. One snored rather loudly. Easing open the door and bracing herself for the potential squeal of its hinges, she slipped inside. The tension that sunk at the relief of silently making it past rusty hinges spiked again at the realization of being trapped in this stiflingly small space with these strange men. She approached the supplies as softly as she could. The snoring man stopped suddenly causing her to freeze in her tracks, her heart hammering in her ears. He murmured something in his sleepy daze and shifted to his side before his snoring resumed more softly. When she was just an arm’s length away from her tempting goal, a floor board groaned loudly in protest of the weight of her foot and she withdrew it rapidly inadvertently kicking over the collection of small vials near one of the sleeping figures who bolted upright and immediately caught the intruder in his startled gaze. ‘What the..a hunter!’ he exclaimed waking his compatriots who scrambled to their feet as the hungry stray sprang out of her failed escapade. A glass projectile shattered on the ground near her fleeing feet and she was enveloped in a noxious mist that burned her heaving lungs forcing to cough so violent it doubled her over. It was too late. The curious substance crossed from her lungs, to the blood, and to the nerves and she was overcome by a numb paralysis on the snow.

Dearest Mother,

I write to inform you that will be resigning my duties in the Healing Church. I know we have had our disagreements about the paths in life we have chosen, but I need to speak with you very urgently. What I am about to will destroy me, but I fear it my only option to remedy the rot I’ve wrought.

Yours always,

Maria

The letter was concise and functional without revealing too many details that she dared not even manifest on paper while still in the confines of her office in the Healing Church’s research hall. Before sealing the letter, she wandered to the window overlooking her favorite Lumenflower Garden bathed in moonlight to ponder the gravity of her decision. Was it not cowardly and selfish of her to simply abandon the research subjects who depended on her light in their psychotic darkness thrust upon them by the horrific experiments they endured? Her spirit had grown so weary of the countless men, women, and children interred to the research hall to become a part of the Church’s inane effort to elevate the human physical form and psyche to that of the Great Ones of the stars. Human lives were simply coals in a factory of death and like the endless of cycle of the beast hunt she had left behind her, the wheel turns and turns again. It needed to be burned to the ground. Cainhurst’s flamboyantly vampiric ways and incautious use of the blood reviled her, but they were the only dependable opponents to the Healing Church with a viable armed force and political influence. They were, after all, her kin. It was her only last resort. She pricked a finger, sealing the letter with fingerprint of blood before holding it to the flame of the candle on her desk. The embers fluttered to the sky towards their recipient and produced a flicker of hope in her bosom. It had to be done. She loaded her beloved Evelyn with bullets and solemnly descended the tower to the patient wards.


	2. Like Swine to Slaughter

Cold stone pressed to her cheek greeted her when her body reclaimed its senses and consciousness. She could not locate her limbs with her mind to move them, but could will her eyes to open. She was surrounded by a half a dozen bound and motionless prisoners in the bowels of some underground dungeon, half of which hung by their feet from iron hooks chained to the ceiling. Two men in butcher’s smocks and tall boots methodically and unperturbed as accustomed to their grisly duty as they were, slit each of their throats as the sputtering crimson fountain pooled in waiting glass vessels below them. A tall, pale woman in a silver dress and iron helm concealing her face supervised them wordlessly with her arms folded. A woman in black stood demurely waiting for her mistress’s command at her side. Dread and helplessness welled up in her throat. Was this it? To be bound and slaughtered like swine to satiate blood fiends? Was her existence that she toiled so hard in the wilds to sustain and find meaning in so cheap as meet such an undignified end? The iron-helmed woman’s gaze drifted over expectantly to the remaining prisoners as the others’ bloodletting neared its completion. It settled upon the antlers of her beast hood with a spark of curiosity. That was not hide of not just any common beast, rather a species only members of the upper echelons of the Healing Church transformed into spurred by their zealous endeavor for spiritual ascension and communion with the gods. The irony of their fate was tragic and yet so befitting for their foolishness. Who was this hunter? She strode over to her motionless form and rolled her onto her back with her boot revealing a surprisingly young, naturally pale face with dazed, viridian green orbs gazing up at her. She bled slightly from her nose from the rough handling into the dungeon’s bloodletting room and the woman stooped to dab the scarlet rivulet with finger, lifting it to her nose and inhaling slightly. She frowned. No scent of moonlight, the rotted scent of beasthood was absent, and there was no sharp tang of corruption that she could detect despite her phenotypic resemblance to her kin. Yet, there was something else…

“Thick-headed fools, a seeker of echoes this girl is not. She has not what We require,” She addressed the men sternly.

“But, her garb!” They protested.

“She is a mere child. We will dock your pay for this hunt owing to your error and you best see that it does not happen again,” Turning to the servant in black, she added, “Isold, take this poor wretch to get cleaned up and send for the doctor.”

“Yes, my lady,” she muttered quietly before swiftly approaching the wayward youth and hoisting her onto her flaccid feet with surprising strength for her gracile frame. Her mind was still muddled by the effects of the aerosol drug and the effort of shuffling her legs to keep up with woman’s strides up a never-ending spiral staircase and labyrinthian corridors lined with crimson carpets and ornate fixtures and paintings that passed in blurs. They arrived in a simple room and she was deposited onto a wooden chair while the woman hastily ignited a fire in the hearth for light and to warm the kettle of waiting bath water.

“Ugh, let’s get this stinking beast hide off you.” She recoiled from her aggressive cloying fingers.

“Father! It was my father…” she protested.

“Was he…taken by the scourge, dear?” The woman asked. More gingerly reaching to remove the antlered hood and revealed a long mane of disheveled moonlight-colored hair and beginning to hack away at its many tangles with a brush.

“Yes…” She said simply wincing at the tugging on her scalp.

“Ah, I’m terribly sorry, dear. This land holds nothing other than tragedies, I tell you…”

She wordlessly tipped the tepid water into a round wooden tub and set aside a drying rag and a nightgown and from a cabinet drawer.

“Well, I’ll leave you be and go wake the doctor. You’ll find soap and a sponge by the laver,” she said with a weary sigh before disappearing into the hall and softly closing the door after her. The crunch of a metal key twisted the door locked. She furrowed her brow in confusion at the foreign term ‘laver’ but after a quick glance around the room she located a white bar of soap imbued with curious fragrant oils and the sponge near a basin. Relieving herself of her heavy clothes, slipped into the water and began to attempt to scrub away the ordeal of the night before it imprinted itself onto her numb and shocked state. The hour was so late, the slumbering castle so silent, and the water so warm that she had nearly fallen asleep in time when there suddenly came a soft knock at the door. She hoisted herself out of the water and hastily dried and dressed herself.

“Hello, it’s Doctor Iosefka. May I come in?”

“Yes,” she forced out stiffly eyeing the emerging figure clad in white emerge from the doorway. The doctor clicked her tongue.

“Oh dear, it’s quite a situation you’ve been in. I bet you’re in a right haze about all this right now, but we’ll just make sure you’re all right.” The doctor gestured for her to sit down and began by examining her pupils through a magnifying optic.

“Hmm, your pupils look fine; no signs of latent beasthood…You’re a bit thin, but some hearty food and rest should put you right. How long have you lived in the forest?” she asked now listening to heart with a stethoscope.

“As long as I remember…”

“All by yourself? How many winters are you?”

“Yes, all I remember was that my father left me there to escape the beast scourge and showed me how to survive before he turned himself. I’ve seen at least 23 winters, but perhaps more…” The doctor frowned slightly in concern, recalling the research she’d read on social isolation and parental abandonment’s deleterious effects on the soundness of the mind. The girl’s speech was labored as if struggling to form words and string them together and her voice a hoarse, quiet whisper as it had been ages since she’d spoken aloud.

“That sounds positively frightful, dear. I will write a script for sedatives if you find yourself too overwhelmed by all this. Take just one and the symptoms will subside,” She said gesturing with her pointer finger for emphasis and removing an amber glass pill bottle and handing it to her patient.

“Before I bid you good night, I’d like to test some of your blood as well,” she added and produced a syringe and removed the cap, revealing a long, thin needle. The girl shook her head withdrew her arm.

“Why?” She asked.

“It will tell me a lot about you. The new tests developed at Byrgenwerth are amazing and can quantify so many constituents of blood that interact with the body in so many way that we’re just discovering! Isn’t it wonderful?” She explained enthusiastically. “In accordance to my Hippocratic Oath, I will not share the results with anyone. It’s just between you and me. Deal?” She was admittedly intrigued and decided it couldn’t hurt to humor the strange doctor’.

“Just a pinch,” She promised, inserting the needle into the vein in the crook of her arm and drawing the scarlet elixir of life.

“Well, that’s that and I wish you restful sleep. Try not to think too hard about all this, hm?” She said gently cleaning and dressing the puncture site and rising to take her leave. Grateful for the solitude at last, she curled up on a straw-filled mattress and drifted off. She had slept long into the morning and awoke to being sticky with cold sweat from troubled dreams and pale morning light filling the small room. She hurried to the window eager to get her geographic bearings. The storm from last night had shifted into a full white-out, so she couldn’t discern her location from familiar peaks and ridges in the distance, but she could make out formidable stone walls and turrets just beyond a statue-adorned garden with an ornate fountain at its center. A soft knock came from behind her.

“Yes?” Isold opened the door, but did not enter.

“Her Majesty the Queen wishes to speak to you. Make haste and make yourself presentable. I will show you the way,” and the door softly glided shut for her privacy. She decided on a simple tunic and breeches over the pastel pink dress hanging in the wardrobe for the sake of comforting normalcy and quickly plaited her waist-length fair hair into her customary single braid before washing the lingering drowsiness of her face in the basin and going Isold in the hall.

“Oh, you were quick indeed. Follow me,” She commanded softly as they set off through the cavernous castle. Dread tinged with curiosity rose steadily within the newcomer. Who or what was this woman who harvested human blood?

“You do know your manners and how to address a queen, don’t you? Kneel on one knee in the circle of candles and she will grant you audience. You’ll do well to use her titles: My Queen, Your Majesty, My Liege, My Lady. Good luck,” She instructed when they came to a large double-door guarded by two armor-clad knights. Isold departed and the knights, expecting the Queen’s guest, opened the heavy doors to reveal a long, carpeted staircase lined with statues of mounted knights causing her to linger a moment in awe. As she ascended the stairs, a soft yet regal voice greeted her.

“Visitor, child of the forest, kneel before Us.” She kneeled in the circle of candles at the Queen’s feet as Isold had instructed, taking in the regent’s appearance under her lashes. She had a more delicate and child-like face than her authoritative voice would suggest and bore a full scarlet dress adorned with the Cainhurst crest with a crown atop her silver hair. An ancient presence loomed about her visage and bearing. Her energy hummed with a Voice not quite human.

“I am Queen Annalise; ruler of Castle Cainhurst and leader of the Vilebloods. What is thy name?” She queried, lifting her chin.

“I cannot remember…Forgive me, Your Majesty.” The Queen frowned, but then chuckled slightly.

“Such manners for one who hast lived amongst the beasts of the wilds for so long as to have forgotten thy name. Perhaps it will return to thee in due time. Rise. I wish to look upon thee. ” She said lightly.

Her visitor did as she commanded. It was in that moment she took notice of the second empty throne beside the monarch. An immense, ominous presence seemed to enshroud the throne although nothing was amiss to the bare eye. She could almost hear it whispering indiscernible and alluring secrets, beckoning her to listen and learn of them like siren’s song. The Queen followed her distant, distracted gaze to the throne raising an eyebrow.

“And what of thy family?” She continued, snapping her out of her daze. She rested her chin on her hand ponderously, aiming to discern a basis for her hope that this peculiar outsider bore kinship with her dwindling clan as her appearance suggested.

“My father was a hunter of the Church. When the scourge spread to Yharnam, he moved me to a cabin in the woods far away from it all before he too fell to the plague. I never knew my mother,” She explained. 

“I see…The beast of the garb thou bear can only come from a Healing Church elite which hast sickened of the Old Blood…was it-?”

“Yes, my Lady…” She answered to the floor.

“Quite an incredulous feat for a mere child to slay such a beast and live to tale the tale,” The Queen replied in an intrigued yet skeptical tone.

She was transported back to the memory of her father’s anguished sobs and wails transforming into infernal screeches of the Cleric Beast and the pain of its hideous claws rending her flesh with the swing of its mighty, grotesquely elongated arm.

“I don’t know how I managed it…I wish I had more answered for you, Your Majesty, but there so much I don’t understand,” She explained hoping she would drop such horrid subject. The Queen contemplated her words for a moment.

“Tell me, canst thou read and write?”

“Yes, Father schooled me himself before he turned and we had quite a library in the cabin. I salvage the books I can find while foraging when I can. To partake of a story and escape the toils of survival sets us apart from the beasts.”

“Wisely spoken, child, I have a proposition then. Wouldst thou like to work in our Grand Library? Gods above, they have been badgering me for extra assistance for far too long,” She chuckled. “Swear thy fealty and labor to Us, thy Queen, and in return We offer thee Our protection and nourishment. Thou may even read all thy pleases. What sayeth thee?”

“You’re very merciful and generous, my Lady. I will accept your offer,” She didn’t have much choice.

“Splendid, now, come close and kneel before Us once more.”

She did as commanded with her head bowed.

“This mark of allegiance with thou shalt bear with thee always,” She whispered, her hand hovering the nape of her neck. The Vileblood mark, a swirling ankh symbolizing their everlasting lives burned itself into her skin yet was not painful; it was a mere rush of warm electricity in her nerves.

“Go on now, find the Great Library and its keeper Helga.”

The rest of the day was filled with learning the ins and outs of colossal Great Library’s system of organization and its layout from the stern yet headstrong and amusing Keeper Helga. Age had bowed her over and she walked assisted with a cane that secretly transformed into a rapier as she mischievously brandished when warning her of all the dangerous secrets that the library harbored in the pages of its many tomes. The old woman had taken to calling her Pup after learning of her past and inability to recall her name as an allusion to a story of a she-wolf raising a human child who became a legendary warrior as her pup. Winding down with some works of folklore and ancient legends recommended by Keeper Helga by candlelight late into the evening, she began to feel restless. She would not be going to sleep anytime soon, so why not take the opportunity to explore the castle for herself undisturbed? She pulled on a warm robe and slippers as the large, drafty castle could get very cold at night and took a candle with her before softly closing the door behind her. She lingered long in every hallway marveling in the craftsmanship in every detail of adornment of the ceilings, pillars, stained glass windows, carpets and tapestries. Gazing into the faces of the many portraits on the wall of the main dining room, she hoped to glean a better understanding about the history of this place. Surely she’d find a book on that in the library tomorrow. The carafes and amphoras on the table sparkled mesmerizingly in the light of the flame and were opulently decorated. She stroked one of the lightly with an inquisitive finger wondering how one could bend metal into such graceful forms. She descended the main staircase into the statue-lined entry foyer with a glittering chandelier hanging in its high vaulted ceiling. She stroked the smooth marble of a statue depicting a queen of a bygone era reverently. The massive double doors of the main entrance were plaited in gold and featured two exquisitely detailed figures of a king and queen amid swirling ivy vines and flowers. She yearned to be able to create something so beautiful by her own hand. Suddenly, the door shuddered and begin to groan on its hinges; slowly gaping inward. She retreated in fright. What had she done? A black gloved hand curled itself around the edge of the door and heaved it open revealing a tall figure with a dark duster coat and tricorne upon her head. The sudden draft extinguished the flame of her candle and she let it clatter to the floor in shock. The woman was drenched head to toe in blood and her gaze was distant as if seeing a thousand yards past her. She stood there frozen unable to move. The blood-soaked woman sighed heavily and crumpled to her knees.

“Are you hurt?” She asked urgently dashing forward and kneeling beside the stranger who could not pose a threat.

“No…” She answered in a quiet monotone hanging her head as if admitting to wrongdoing.

“Please…send for Lady Isold, She lifted her gaze to hers briefly and added, “If you’re so kind.”

“I will get her right away!” She promised; scrambling back up the stairs and the through corridors she came through before knocking furiously on Isold’s door. She opened clearly irate,

“Gods below, do you know what hour it is?”

“Someone’s here! Down by the entry! I think she needs help,” She explained breathlessly.

“What? By the gods…” Isold swore has they both hurried down to the foyer. She gasped as she instantly recognized the incomer.

“Lady Maria!” She rushed to her side and pulled the woman to her feet disregarding how the gore covering her stained her hands and clothes as well. Turning the girl who had woken her she said, “I will handle everything from here, child, now off to bed with you!”

She stared after them as they disappeared from view; what beauty and terrors place harbored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm no linguistic expert about archaic English grammar, so I just made my best guesses in writing the Queen's dialogue...>.<


	3. Tea for Two

The morning sun’s rays scattered in kaleidoscope colors and patters through the stained-glass window behind Annalise’s head surrounding her in an almost divine aura of light. She regarded her estranged daughter across the war room table bearing a geographic map of the nearby region where battles were strategized centuries before.

“Thou wished to speak to Us, daughter? What brings thee to turn from thy vows to the Church?” She began in a stern yet sympathetic tone.

“The Church has fallen. No longer do they heal the ailing and hunt beasts, now they hunt people to turn induce grievous suffering and turn them into beasts. You needn’t take my word for it, “ She said gravely, sliding a portfolio of documents she had pilfered and illicitly copied describing the discovery and desecration of Kos and her child, the genocide of the Fishing Hamlet, the Choir’s diabolical experiments on the children of the orphanage, and the twisted monstrosities the patients of the Research Hall had become in the aspiration to elevate their consciousness to that of the Great Ones. The Queen perused them with growing disgust and sadness. She rubbed her temples and sighed wearily.

“I should be put to death for what I was complicit in…but I could not have anticipated that it was would come to this. I too believed the search for the Truth was the destiny and duty of mankind to uncover; that it would benefit us all…but not this. After the Fishing Hamlet I thoughtI could still stand on the moral side of the Healing Church’s operations by caring the Choir’s patients in the Research Hall, but even the ones who had come willingly begged me for death. In the end, when I decided to come to you for plead for your aid in bring down the Church, I…obliged them,” Maria explained. Her throat grew tight as pangs of grief and guilt rent her breast.

“They must be stopped. Please,” She pleaded not daring to speak above a whisper as to betray the withheld emotion tearing her apart. The Queen gazed sympathetically at her beautiful, strong, and crestfallen daughter. She had been her favorite child for the powers of their ancestor’s blood ran strongest within her, but so too was her iron will. She spurned the use of her blood magic abilities on the principle that it was not her place to use another’s vital essence to her own ends. Her reasoning painted her a pariah and therefore she left to train under the tutelage of Gerhman whom she had met at conference during her university years at Byrgenwerth about the emerging beast problem with the newly founded Healing Church. 

“Very well…We shall send emissaries to Our foreign allies to summon all of the reinforcements We can muster. Thy insight and intelligence thou hast gathered will of course be critical to planning our strike at the core; this…Choir. Renew thy vow of allegiance to Us, and drinketh

of me. Thou hast been through a great ordeal. Let the blood of thy ancestors be thy strength,” She persuaded suavely.

Maria rose, somewhat reluctantly, but knew of her mother’s stubborn adherence to tradition and obliged. Oh, how long she had secretly thirsted. She knelt beside her mother and gingerly took her outstretched arm. Her small fangs pierced her radial vein and suckled from it like a newborn babe. Euphoria radiated into her every blood vessel and enervated her sickly spirit. She stood and wiped her mouth as she retracted her fangs. The weight of her burden felt so much lighter and the colors of the stained glass window appeared divinely vivid.

“Thank you, Mother. I do love you,” She said sincerely, so relieved to no longer be alone in her daunting campaign.

“And I thee, dearest daughter. I’m so happy thou hast returned even in these wretched circumstances,” replied Annalise pulling her into a firm,comforting embrace.

“I have one more request,” Annalise added.

“What it is it?”

“We have taken in a newcomer. A mix-up on a hunt led a non-transfused human girl here and apparently she had lived alone in the forest for most of her life and cannot even recall her own name.”

“Oh, that’s most unfortunate…”

“There’s something peculiar about her. I have reason to suspect she shares kinship with Us and yet despite being non-transfused she can sense Us…” Annalise continued in a hushed tone, narrowing her eyes.

“What? How?” Maria asked incredulously.

“Become close with her and learn her secrets. I know, why don’t I summon her hither and thee two ladies take a nice afternoon tea together, hm?” Annalise suggested.

“I, uh, sure; if it pleases you, Mother,” Maria stammered at the sudden short of notice of asocial engagement.

“Excellent,” replied the Queen cheerfully as she produced a small bell and let it ring.

OOOOOOOO

The newest library assistant stood atop a long ladder and replaced collections of atlases in the correct order on the topmost shelf with Helga below hoisting more up to her when she heard the queer chime of a bell.

“Do you hear that? That bell?” She called down to her.

“That’s the bell that tolls for thee, Pup. The Queen must wish to see thee. That’s sufficient for the day, we’ve accomplished much in just a few hours. Go on now,” urged Helga.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes! Don’t keep her waiting!”

The girl hurried down the ladder and followed its echoing plings through the corridor until she came to a secluded door atop a spiral staircase she never seen before. She tentatively pushed them open to reveal Queen Annalise standing before the kaleidoscope window and to her shock, the blood-drenched huntress from the night before.

Her statuesque figure over a head taller than herself was clad in a beautifully embroidered red frock coat with a black half-cape with a jabot fastened with a jade-green brooch the same color as her eyes at her neck. The feathered tricorne that had become her trademark and set the standard for a Hunter’s attire after her career was pulled low on her brow over her white-blonde hair tied back with a black ribbon.Her delicate features were as fine as a porcelain doll’s and bore a strong resemblance to those of the Queen’s beside her. Her expression was stoic, but in a warm and melancholic sense rather cold. She sensed a deep sorrow in the woman’s bearing. Suddenly remembering her manners in her state of shock and awe, she bowed her head in greeting. 

“My Queen, is something the matter?” She asked nervously.

Maria studied this storied outsider. She bore the short maroon waistcoat over a white shirt with ruffled cuffs and trousers customary of that of a library keeper, but she did not appear to belong in it at all. Her dark green eyes were as fiercely watchful and as penetrating as a wolf’s and she did not meet their gazes directly. The way they gazed past and through her added to their unnerving quality. Her lithe movements and tense posture suggested a hidden speed and strength like that of stag.

“No, dear, I simply wished for thee to meet my daughter, Lady Maria,” she said gesturing to the tall woman beside her who tipped her head and said, “Pleased to meet you.” 

She stared baffled; what a peculiar reason for summoning her...

“Pleased to meet you as well,” She finally forced out in a way that sounded more like a question.

“Now, why don’t thee two go and take afternoon tea together? I’m sure thee have much to discuss!” Said the Queen sweetly. She didn’t feel reassured by the casual proposition. What unknown pressing matter would they discuss?

“Come, I know of the perfect place,” Maria said emerging from behind the great table to leave with the bewildered girl in tow. They traversed the castle side-by-side in tense silence. Maria caught the girl’s scent in the close proximity. She found it very soothing and grounding.Mother was right, there was something peculiar about it. They reached a suspended hallway connecting two turrets with floor-to-ceiling spade shaped windows offering a view of the frozen lake and forested valley beyond from both directions. The dazzling brightness from the expanse of ice was invigorating. Maria led her to two plush chairs facing the lake with a small table between them. A servant approached as soon as they seated themselves.

“Oh! Lady Maria! You have returned. Why, it’s been years!” He bellowed warmly.

“It’s great to see you’re well, Louis,” Maria smiled in return.

“What can I get for you and, erm, your guest?” He asked, stammering at the sight of an unfamiliar face.

“Do you still have the lavender tea and your specialty berry tarts?” Maria asked with nostalgic hope.

“I do indeed! It’ll be just a moment,” he promised and departed.

The two sat and stared at the scenery a for moment. Maria observed how the sunlight illuminated her vivid irises.

“So, I hear you cannot recall your name,” Maria said finally.

“Yes, I was quite young when I first came to the forest. There was simply no one around to use it. Keeper Helga calls me Pup after the legend of the she-wolf and the warrior.”

“That sounds like Helga,” Maria chuckled. “I can see you’re not as a mere little whelp, however.You’re more like the she-wolf herself,” she continued with a glint in her eye. The girl blushed hotly at the compliment. Louis returned with a steaming pot of tea and two finely plated berry tarts on a tray which he set between them. Maria smiled and nodded in thanks.

“Forgive me, conservation is not something I’m accustomed to,” She said feeling flustered.

“Ah fret not, you speak remarkably well considering your past,” Maria reassured her pouring the tea for her guest first and then herself.

“But,” Maria lifted her chin. “It’s hard to hear you when you talk to my boots,” she smirked.

Eye contact was a challenge in the wilds and she wouldn’t dare show such impudence to someone of Lady Maria’s standing. She averted her gaze over her shoulder after a fraction of a second.

“You fear me,” Maria accused gently.

“Yes.” She was honest; unaware and unconcerned with the endless social posturing characterizing highly hierarchical societies like the court of Cainhurst, Byrgenwerth, and Healing Church. It was a refreshing surprise to Maria who then released her.

“What does Queen harvest the blood for and why did she spare me? I don’t mean to discount her mercy and generosity, but I’ve done nothing to deserve it. What does she wish of me?” She asked.

“It is wise to question the intentions behind generosity one is no position to refuse,” Maria said swirling the tea with a small spoon to cool it. “Beast hunters who imbibe the blood all too often go mad and descend into beasthood themselves and taking them out becomes a necessity. The Queen hopes that consuming the remnants of the life essence they consume will give her a child of the divines. I confess I understand little of her motivations, but it is not common you find someone out there with their wits about them, particularly someone living in the forest alone. You intrigue her…and me.” She took a bite of the tart and nodded in satisfaction. 

“Oh, try the tart. It is quite good!” She encouraged. The younger woman took a bite. It was indeed.

“But I swear to you,” Maria continued dropping her voice an octave in sincerity. “that no harm will befall you here. A knight’s oath is never merely empty words. That I can assure you.”

She flicked her gaze up to hers briefly and could only nod stiffly in affirmation.

“Why were you covered in blood last night?” She asked carefully.

“The journey here…was an arduous one,” Maria answered choosing her words carefully. Now was not the time to discuss what transpired in detail. “I can imagine that was a jarring first impression, I do apologize. I also was not expecting to be received by a new face at such a late hour. I would not have blamed if you fled up the main staircase screeching,” She said bemusedly trying to lighten the subject causing the younger woman to chuckle at the mental image it produced. She swallowed her laughter with a sip of tea.

“Your voice sounds different from the others,” She commented noticing Maria’s subtly accented speech to change the subject. “In a good way, I mean. I quite like it.”

“Very observant, the court of Cainhurst has not always used the common tongue and we’ve adopted it simply to ease diplomacy during my lifetime,” Maria explained.

“Can I hear an example?” She asked leaning forward in curiosity. She had never a heard a different language before. Inwardly she wondered how much older Lady Maria was than her outward appearance. She seemed only marginally older than herself, but her recollection seemed to extend far deeper. The curious ancient weight of her presence hovered also around Maria as it did her mother, but tinged with a levity of youth.

Maria gazed out over the white expanse of the frozen lake and began to softly sing.

_Bayu-bayushki-bayu, ne lozhisya na krayu._

_Pridot seren'ki volchok i ukhvatit za bochok._

_On ukhvatit za bochok i potashchit vo lesok, i potashchit vo lesok._

_Pod rakitovyy kustok. K nam, volchok, ne khodi, nashu Mashu ne budi._

_Bayu-bayushki-bayu, ne lozhisya na krayu. Pridot seren'ki volchok i ukhvatit za bochok._

_On ukhvatit za bochok i potashchit vo lesok, i utashchit vo lesok. Pod malinovyy kustok._

_A malinka upadot, Pryamo Katen'ke v rot._

_Bayu-bayushki-bayu, ne lozhisya na krayu._

_Pridot seren'ki volchok i ukhvatit za bochok._

_On ukhvatit za bochok i potashchit vo lesok, i potashchit vo lesok. Pod osinovyy kustok._

_Ty k nam, volchik, ne khodi, nashu Mashu ne budi._

_Bayu-bayushki-bayu, ne lozhisya na krayu. Pridot seren'ki volchok i ukhvatit za bochok._

_On ukhvatit za bochok i potashchit vo lesok, a tam babushka zhivot i kalachiki pechot, i detishkam prodayot, a Vanyushe tak dayot_

In its soothing and melodic verses she could easily hear how Maria’s unique prosody and vowel pronunciations shown through from her first language to the common tongue.

“It’s beautiful,” She breathed. “What is it about?”

“It’s a lullaby urging young children to always sleep in the center of the bed somewhere safe lest the little wolf will come to steal them into the forest,” Maria explained gesturing playfully to her with her fork.

“Ah, I see. Its beauty hides the sinister theme well, then.”

“Do you suppose there is something in your home in the woods that could remind you of your name?”

“Perhaps…” Surely she would have seen something in all her years in the small cabin.

“I should certainly like to see how you lived, regardless,” She said with her eyes twinkling of curiosity. “A little excursion is surely a better way to be to become acquainted than tea and sweeties, no?”

She nodded enthusiastically also eager to leave the stony confines of the Cainhurst and to visit her living emerald castle.

“I am not certain of the location in relation to the Cainhurst, though. The settlement where I usually salvage materials and where the huntsmen took me was once called Vidim, I think. The cabin lies a ways north of it.”

“Ah, Vidim, that’s not far from here at all. It’s about a two hour trek each way. It was once a lively and charming village. Shall we meet in the entry foyer tomorrow morning, then?”

“Yes, of course!”

“It’s settled, then. I have some more business to attend to this evening so I must now bid you farewell, but I look forward to tomorrow,” She rose and smiled warmly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bayu-bayushki-bayu" Is the Russian lullaby the Doll hums in the Hunter's Dream. It's quite beautiful and I wanted to work it in with Maria's character somehow :D


	4. Chasseur in the Forest

The next morning, Maria waited in front of the mighty gold-plated doors with two pairs of snowshoes under her arm, a rucksack of supplies, and her signature hunter’s garb with a bear skin cape with its mighty paws draped over her shoulders for added warmth. Her trusted Rakuyo and Evelyn rested at her hips. Her compatriot hoisted her own rucksack onto her back and hurriedly descended the stairs clad in her antlered beast hide garb and fur-lined leather trousers that kept out the cold, wet snow with her twin bone daggers sheathed at her side. Maria brightened at the sight of her as who she truly was free of the stifling finery of her Cainhurst guise.

“Ready? I brought these snowshoes to as the snow will no doubly be deep,” Maria said nodding the footwear she held as she pushed open the golden door. The weather was clear and quite mild for mid-winter’s day they noted as they made their way across the statue garden courtyard which glistened with ice as if dusted in silver. The guardsman nodded in acknowledgment and heaved down the lever to the mechanism controlling the high iron gate and they set out across the long bridge across the frozen lake towards the jagged fortress of evergreens. They traveled mostly in silence save for the sound of their footsteps and the breeze dislodging clumps of heavy snow from the pines. Though it had only been a few days, she relished the sounds of silence and the sharp fragrance of the conifers mixed with clean scent of fresh snow and earth. Maria cherished the palette of sensations the forest offered as well and the way that every nerve became more attuned to receive them with each step way from civilization and safety they wandered. She kept a sharp eye for beasts, as always, but was grateful for the new layer of snow to accentuate their tracks. This was generally a quiet part of the woods so hyper-vigilance needn’t overshadow her enjoyment.

“In three day’s time, some childhood friends and I are planning a small party. You’re welcome to attend should it interest you,” Maria said finally.

“Oh that sounds nice, but I wouldn’t want to intrude. Conversations with a lot of people at once might be a little much,” She said skeptically.

“You wouldn’t be intruding. I already proposed inviting you to them and they would be pleased to finally meet you. They promise not bombard you with questions or think ill of you for withdrawing if you must. You can wear whatever you wish,” Maria explained encouragingly. The girl had certainly never been to party and had the opportunity to meet others close in age to herself and she wanted that for her.

“Ah I see. That sounds like an idea to consider, then,” she answered still a little uncertain.

They reached dilapidated a sign indicated the reaches of Vidim half buried in snow and cloying, overgrown branches.

“Yes! This is the place. I know where we are now,” She said happily spying the familiar log houses with steep triangular rooftops. Maria pulled out her map and pointed out the village to her tracing the path they had traversed with her finger.

“So, here we are in relation to Cainhurst just southwest of it.”

“Then we go directly north and follow our shadows in the midday sun,” The forest dweller added sliding her finger northward on the parchment to an area dubbed Kokorin Forest.

“I never knew it had a name until now,” She said gazing affectionately at the spot under her finger for a moment before they ventured into the village’s heart.

It was silent save for creaking doors and window flapping weakly in the breeze. A faint, animalistic chuffing and huffing sound came from within of the small house. They drew the weapons simultaneously as the same suspicion bolted into their survival instincts. At nearly the same instant, two Scourge Beasts burst through the door in an explosion of debris and splinters. Maria dashed forward and diagonal under the swing of its mighty, clawed hands and stabbed the small end of her Rakuyo through its heart. It collapsed with feral whine of pain and the longer blade came swiftly down upon its throat and severed its head in a merciful, clean swipe. The second beast reared up on its hind legs and wound up pounce on the dagger-wielding woman who caught the opening to plunge them into its solar plexus and wrench them free unleashing a shower of blood upon herself. The beast staggered and fell sideways at the devastating blow and was dealt its coup-de-grace to its exposed throat. The two stood amid the carnage gathered their breaths and letting their nerves settle for a moment.

“You’re not bad at all. I see you’ve done this many times before,” Maria said legitimately impressed by her bold reaction and skill with her blades.

“Yeah…One gets used to it. They’re quite clumsy beasts, really.” She said modestly wiping her blade clean. “A lot of them seem to wander aimlessly on the road from Vidim to the next settlement west of here. Perhaps it was their routine before they turned?”

“Mm, Perhaps.” The humanity of the beasts was certainly tragic subject to ponder. Most Hunters simply prefer not to consider it.

They continued up a narrow, overgrown path the forest-dweller recognized with their elongated shadows leading the way in the winter sun. After several minutes, they came to a small clearing where a worn, but well-tended cabin with a steep, A-frame roof stood.

“Well, here we are.” It certainly wasn’t a grand sight, but it was her trusted abode. She produced a key from a pocket and pushed the door open. Everything was exactly the way she had left it, even down the crumbs on the plate of her last meager meal and the tousled furs on the small bed. She hurriedly brought the plate to the wash basin and straighten the fur blankets slightly embarrassed. Her home consisted of a single room with a large hearth decorated with braids of useful herbs dangling within convenient reach with a rocking chair placed in front of it. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf spanning the longer wall opposite it was filled to the brim with various tomes and books that could not find a place on the over-crowded shelf stood in neat towers below it.

“Erm, why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get a fire going,” she said, flustered at the prospect of hosting royalty in a her humble home. Maria paused at the entrance to take it in. She certainly did not allow the place to go unadorned. A radial blood gem surrounded by a spider’s web of various claws and teeth polished to brilliantly catch the light hung over her bed along with a wide assortment of wooden and bone effigies depicting a multitude of flora and fauna, as well some attempts at human figures. An arsenal of crafting materials and various pelts, horns, and feathers lay strewn about a large table in the room’s center. Maria took a seat there and studied them. Her host approached the hearth and let her hand hover it. She closed her eyes and flame shot out of her palm and coalesced into a tame bonfire which she placed a kettle of water over. Maria blinked.

“I see you have a bit of Arcane in you, then.”

“Yeah…maybe just a little,” she muttered nonchalantly while removing her blood-soiled beasthide hood and cape and began to clean it gingerly with a rag.

“I don’t wear this as a trophy,” she explained as Maria looked on. “This way, father is always close to me and continue to protect me even in death. I feel that he would have wanted that.” She caressed the gnarled, deformed antler tenderly and joined Maria at the table pulling out the wrapped sandwiches they packed for the journey.

“Shall we eat? I’m quite hungry.”

“Yes, of course, I am as well.”

They polished off their lunches in a content, satiated silence before Maria spoke.

“You’re quite the artisan, really, would you consider displaying some of these in Cainhurst? The court shares a high passion for the arts and they’re always looking for innovation. They’ll take utmost care of them, I’m sure.” She said gesturing to the works on the walls. 

“It does pass the time. There’s something meaningful in making the profaned beautiful again. The creation of beauty separates us from beasts and makes all this slavering to sustain our existence worth it…She said wistfully, her gaze distant. “We can certainly take some back with us. There’s something I want to show you.”

She produced a small metal box from a drawer and pulled out a pendant in the form a sparkling sword hilt. Maria’s eyes widened in recognition.

“There’s also a note: ‘To Kenneth Ladouceur, your valor, your sword, and your indispensable services to the Church; take this as a token of your fealty and bravery. May it serve you well. Forever by your side, Sir Ludwig Seleneus.’” She read aloud. “Who is this Ludwig?”

“Ludwig was one of the first hunters who established the Hunt as an operation of the Healing Church and who mobilized common folk to defend against the Scourge’s spread. The Holy Blades were an elite force under his command this is their emblem. It is an incredibly high honor to receive this badge from him,” She said letting the pendant rest in her palm and stroking its radiant surface with her thumb.

“Well, that’s a great first lead, I suppose,” She replaced the pendant for a ring and held it out for Maria to inspect. “Do you know where this might have come from?” Maria took the ring pulled out her monocular from her coat pocket and studied it carefully.

“It looks like…an ancient Pthumerian Betrothal Ring. It’s quite common for Church Hunters to be sent on expeditions into Pthumerian tombs where he could have recovered an artifact like this, but it’s a very rare find,” she said with her brow furrowed before handing it back to her.

“You said you never met your mother, yes?

She shook her head forlornly.

“That could be a clue, or a keepsake. We’ll have to dig a little more to be sure,” she mused rising from the table and usingthe advantage of her height to scan the top shelf of books. She was impressed and grateful of how knowledgeable Lady Maria was and returned to the kettle to ladle hot water into mugs with sprigs of mint to make a makeshift tea for them both. Maria tilted her head to the side to examine the titles on the spines. They were mostly flora and fauna identification guides, medical texts, and texts on practical handicraft along with assorted novels in nearly every conceivable genre. A very thin booklet with a bare and unadorned spine wedged between the shelf and a thick encyclopedia of herbal remedies on the topmost level caught her eye. It was often the most unassuming little things in plain sight that concealed the most secrets in her experience and so she pried it free. She smiled when she read its first page.

“This is for you,” She said holding it out to her with her gaze twinkling expectantly. She set the mugs of mint tea down on the table and took the booklet.

“At the beginning of the Beast Scourge, the government of Yharnam tried to hinder its spread by requiring passports and medical exams to enter and leave the city state. The program eventually dissolved as the entire government succumbed and there was no one left to run it, but it was effective as most foreign lands were spared the same fate. It’s the reason why many Hunters able to resist beasthood were recruited from the outside,” Maria continued as she paged through it.

First Name: Evetta

Family Name: Ladouceur

Date of Birth: 18 December, 1744

Father: Kenneth Ladouceur

Mother: -

Place of Birth: Kolvitsa, Inar. Tarva Province.

“Evetta,” She tested her own name stroking ink hand and footprint of her infant self where fingerprints were to be provided.

“I think it suites you. And happy twenty-fifth birthday,” Maria said warmly.

“Is it?” Her gaze snapped up surprised. “To think I’ve had this all these years and it’s the first thing you find.”

“Lucky guess. Being over two meters tall sort of helps sometimes as well,” Maria shrugged nonchalantly. She had been antagonized in her school days for her inhumanly fast growth and gangly, clumsy phase that followed until she became accustomed to her own proportions and built muscle onto her frame through her combat training through which she gained confidence in her stature as she evolved into a nimble and graceful swordswoman.

“I…don’t know to possibly repay you,” She sighed clutching her recovered identity to her chest. Maria held up her hands.

“There’s no need. Some things are just priceless.”

“Well, I suppose we have what we came for. We should start heading back. Darkness falls fast in the forest, especially in winter.”

“Mm, yes, that would be wise,” Maria concurred.

They finished their mint tea to lend a little warmth to their innards before braving the chill again and after having gathered the crafting tools, memorabilia, and artwork she desired into her rucksack, they exited the lonely cabin. Just as Evetta was about to lock the door, her gaze turned to the cliffside with a crevasse just wide enough for a human to sidle through. Its dark yonic depth was magnetic and it thrummed with all the energy and Voices of the forest combined. They whispered to her like a chorus of seraphim, burning and undulating with the profundity only conceivable by a thousand eyes. 

“Is something there?” Maria questioned clutching the hilt of her blade and tracing her transfixed gaze. She snapped out of her trance at the sound of her voice.

“Oh, um, no…I was simply lost in thought,” She stammered, finally twisting the lock. From several paces away, she turned to look at her home again and sighed. Maria put a hand on her shoulder, massaging it her thumb comfortingly.

“I know…It needn’t be a final goodbye after all,” she assured.

“That was my whole world. Nothing will ever be as simple again.”

“That may be so…but life’s path is never predictable for any of us and time marches on.”

Evetta nodded stiffly in agreement. “Let’s go.”

The two returned to the courtyard of Cainhurst just as the early winter dusk tinged the sky with deep gold and entered the castle’s stony, protective embrace. At the base of the main staircase, Evetta stopped and removed her antlered hood to give Maria a firm hug.

“Thank you so much for today, for everything. It was the best birthday ever,” She said sincerely. It was her only birthday. Maria was surprised by the display of sincere affection and gratitude, but returned the embrace tenderly, resting her cheek on her tousled hair-what a precious thing she was.

“Of course…: She breathed, cherishing the opportunity to bring meaningful joy to someone in these times that brought seemingly unending sequences of tragedy and after all the horror she was complicit in bringing into the world.

“You take care, now, and I will see you at our little party, yes?” Maria asked hopefully parting from her but letting her hands rest on her shoulders.

“You will,” Evetta promised meeting her gaze directly for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The place names and cardinal directions in this chapter were taken from locations surrounding Hrad Houska, a notoriously haunted gothic castle from the 1200s located 47km north of Prague which closely resembles Yharnam. It's an absolutely fascinating place built supposedly built to cover a doorway to hell under the earth through which terrifying semi-humanoid beasts emerged to terrorize the villagers and even turn them into beasts as well. A prisoner was lowered into the hole in exchange for a full pardon for his crime to test it and he emerged aged 30 years and babbling insane gibberish. He perished mysteriously shortly after. It sounds similar to the Eldritch knowledge in the labyrinth and the beast scourge of Bloodborne's world.


	5. Disaccord

Maria sat with her legs crossed before the Vileblood Queen in her council room as she received her briefing regarding foreign allyship.

“Pthumeru extends their support in our cause as always. They have grown weary of the Church’s plundering and slaughtering in the labyrinths and would welcome any effort to deal with their pest problem. Their tunnels link, as you know, our land and critical areas of Yharnam and so securing the deep roads with their help is crucial. Loran can offer armaments, but as they’re dealing with a plague of their own and natural disasters, they won’t be able to supply personal, medical supplies, or finances. Iszaeldor possesses a force of highly trained assassins and sorcerers who mean to put a stop to the Church’s cursed and defiled rituals upon their sacred grounds and will join us to strike the heart of the Choir,” The Queen read aloud from her emissaries’ notes.

Maria twirled her tricorne in hands, thinking. “This is good news,” She said finally. “But, my fear is that this effort will become just another campaign for riches, glory, and political power while the people victimized by the Church simply find themselves under new oppressors. On the other hand, the time for ‘cease and desist’ diplomacy and pressure is long passed. The Church has absolute control of Yharnam and nothing hinders them from using the few people remaining as fodder to their warped and twisted ends…” Maria recalled clenching her jaw.

“Yes, I do agree,” The Queen sighed. “War has become a more complex and delicate thing in these modern times with so many new institutions and accompanying entanglements to unravel in just the right way so as to avoid humanitarian disaster. No longer is conflict isolated between a king and his knights versus another king and his knights on some open battlefield,”She said with a wave of her hand as if to dismiss the bygone ways like smoke. Annalise could be tenacious in her adherence to traditions, but not to the extent that it clouded her judgement in the matter of politics. Maria was relieved to hear that she understood what was at stake.

“And what of the forest child? Hast thee uncovered any new information?”

“Yes, we ventured to her cabin and discovered her passport. Her name is Evetta Ladouceur, daughter of Kenneth Ladouceur of the Holy Blades, and born in a small village in the far-north.”

“Sounds familiar…” The Queen scowled thoughtfully and retrieved a tome in red leather binding from a drawer in the mighty desk. She opened to “L” and traced the page with a finger.

“Ah yes, that Kenneth; he was merely a vagrant drifting to find work to send to back his village when he swore to serve me, but he proved himself to be a very capable huntsman and left to join Ludwig’s hunt when he brought back with him a babe. So, this Evetta is indeed of our kin as I thought. Isn’t that a nice little happy ending to take one of ours in from the rain?” She said sweetly and closed crimson tome tenderly. The subject reminded Maria of a lingering fear in the back of her mind.

“I…will need blood eventually,” Maria confessed. “You know how I feel about your hunt, Mother. I cannot partake in it and provide you with what you seek,” She balled up her fists anticipating the Queen’s answer. There was no escaping her Vileblood biology and the need for either the Queen’s or human blood dregs to sustain her. Blood was plentiful at the zenith of the Hunt as there was no saving the poor souls who contracted beasthood and in the Research Hall where she took it from ailing patients on the doorstep of death to send them off to their final rests. Exsanguination was a warm and rather peaceful way to depart when performed correctly and, by principle, Maria always did so as a last-resort act of mercy. Here at Cainhurst, she had no conceivable way of procuring it except through her mother’s charity. Old Blood was a ubiquitous mode of inebriation among the Vilebloods, but its taint when she no longer dreamed was far too great the risk.

“Dost thou care nothing for the posterity of thy people, daughter? There will be no special favors from me until thou learn to see past thy short-sighted selfishness,” She said icily. “I will not lose His Child this time…” she trailed off, voice trembling with the grief of the memory.

“I won’t be much help to you starved,” Maria said crossing her arms defiantly.

“Then go out and hunt for thyself!” She spat. “Little Evetta sure smells nice, does she not? She has not yet imbibed Our blood and is not as We. Why not drink from her?”

Maria clenched her eyes and tried to will away the mental image of her screams of pain and betrayal as she performed such an act. “No.”

“It does not have to occur like that,” continued Annalise guessing the imagery in Maria’s mind. “Just have Doctor Iosefka diagnose her with some obscure, invented blood disease to justify regular bleedings or drop a little Blue Elixir into her evening tea and she’ll be none the wiser as to what transpired. So simple is it.” She produced three small corked bottles of the drug and scooted them across the table.

“Don’t be disgusting. Have you no concept of others’ autonomy?” Maria hissed snatching the sleep and paralysis inducing elixirs off the table. Such a substance was safer out of the possession of her mother. She rose to take her leave, this meeting had ceased being productive.

“Thou doth thyself no favors in denying Our identity. Remember that.” She said at her back.


	6. Shared Simplicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluff chapter ^.^

Evetta savored her last few moments of solitude before the hour to meet Lady Maria’s long-time friends was upon her. In her preparations she as though she was heading into a battle rather than a quaint social occasion. She decided upon a dark-purple tunic with embroidered seams and loose-fitting black trousers along with her newest project, a painted clay mask of an owl with the mane of the Scourge Beast and antlers of a stag. It could serve as a conversation starter and something that telegraphed her identity while providing her with a sense of protection and privacy by concealing her face. A knock came softly at her door making her start violently. As expected, it was Maria. She towered in the doorway in a finely tailored maroon knight’s frock with the gallant half-cape that was the hallmark of Cainhurst nobility. Her white hair was bound into an elegant braided bun and upon the crown of her head rested a circlet of roses with thick, menacing thorns. Already was Evetta grateful for the mask’s protection as she gawked lost for words. Maria stared in return for a moment.

“That surely will one-up any costume any of us can devise. Come! The others are waiting,” She said lightheartedly with a small smile on her painted lips. Together they entered a richly decorated parlor room with a half ring of plush scarlet sofas enclosing a tall fireplace with an ornate mantel bearing the Cainhurst insignia at its zenith. Two women seated on the sofas were bowed over a small table engrossed in a tense game of cards and two others conversed in the warmth of the fireplace exuded. Their faces whirled towards them and brightened at their arrival, but Evetta felt the tension in her breast peak painfully.

“Evetta, meet Rosa, Yuliya, Priscilla, and Nell,” Maria said gesturing to each of them one by one. They all bore the same pale, Vileblood phenotype save for Rosa and her coppery curls and smattering of freckles. Evetta noticed a cane resting against her knee and a peculiar hum under the wraps of the injured limb. Priscilla rushed towards them embracing Maria gleefully and pulling them by the hand towards a vacant sofa.

“Ah, Lady Maria! It’s so great to see you after so long! I’ve heard so much about you, as well,” She said turning to Evetta. “I hope you don’t find us too strange. Cainhurst is a bizarre place for all outsiders and especially for you, I can imagine.” Evetta wasn’t

sure what to say.

“What can I get you ladies to drink?” Priscilla asked nodding her head towards a mahogany table offering an assortment of fruit and wine.

“Just normal wine for myself and my guest, please,” Maria answered politely with a fond smile.

“Ah, of course, some things never change, I see,” Pricilla chided lightly as she went to fetch the non-bloodtinged varietal.

“Priscilla is the court’s Archmage. She’s certainly the one to speak to about everything under the Arcane sun,” Maria explained. She returned with two goblets of red wine and passed them to the two ladies. Evetta slid the mask up atop of her head to smell the ruby liquid and was pleasantly surprised by its fruity and tannic fragrance tinged with a scent reminiscent of yeast bread. Maria studied her long, white eyelashes, delicate nose, and rosy lips as she took a sip, inwardly gladdened by the revelation of her face.

“I like it,” came Evetta’s verdict. “It is very good.”

“Drink it slowly, now,” Maria warned gently.

“Why’s that?”

Priscilla let out a keen of laughter.

Oh, god bless her! Just take a long, hearty draught and find out,” She coaxed impishly. Evetta opted not to and guided the painted owl back over her face in retreat. Taking note of the gesture, Maria stepped in to guide a conversation.

“Evetta here knows a bit of pyromancy. I’ve seen it for myself on our little excursion to Kokorin Forest.”

“Is that so? It’s not a common gift these days. Our little fire looks like it could use some encouragement…”She said turning to the fireplace. “Would you be so kind?”

“Of course,” Evetta obliged stepping forward to raise the dwindling flames and kindle the small candles in a candelabra with a gentle pinch for good measure.

“Ah, you have good control of it despite no formal schooling. Most would simply immolate themselves.”

The hours rolled on passing surprising quickly filled the conversations on family, suitors, education, and stories of conquest in the beast hunt. From her repose on the sofa, Evetta watched and listened in fascination to the tales of lives so very different from her own taking careful note of their body language, speech patterns, and gazes from the shelter of her mask. She observed that Maria’s gaze held something different for her than the others. For them they held a lightness of familiarity and fondness, but when fixed upon her, there was a certain heaviness to her affection it was if Maria drank her in just as her peers relished their long draughts of highly intoxicating blood-tinged wine. What could it mean?

Rosa turned her.

“It’s beautiful, your mask,” She said simply trying engage her somehow.

“Thanks. I just really love owls. One raised her chicks in a nest just outside my home last season and I made it as a tribute to her. There also this family of deer and…” She launched into long tales of spectacular close encounters with the wildlife in Kokorin jumping on the chance to speak of a familiar subject. It suddenly occurred to her that she had been talking for quite some time.

“Oh, I think I’ve gotten carried away,” she said sheepishly.

“No, not at all, it sounds beautiful. Have you ridden a horse before?

“I haven’t.”

“Ah, you should try sometime. They’re such remarkably intelligent creatures. It sure is nice to able to explore where I will without my leg hindering me,” she said gesturing to her affected limb regretfully. Evetta was curious as to what had happened to it, but thought better of asking.

“Indeed, it’s remarkable that such a large, powerful beast would allow us onto their backs.”

Maria and Priscilla refilled their glasses at the mahogany table and Priscilla gestured back towards Evetta seated on the sofa conversing with Rosa.

“New love interest, hm?” She accused in a hushed tone with a mischievous grin.

“No!” Maria hissed in denial.

“Come now, Maria, I’ve known you since you were but a babe and I’m five-hundred years old. I know how you see her,” Priscilla countered, well aware of Maria’s voracious appetite for beautiful young ladies throughout her school years as she had been her primary confidant in such matters of the heart as her candor and wit provided the clear-headed advice Maria needed in the throes of lovesick delirium. Maturity, heartbreak, responsibilities, and the tragedies of the plague of beasts had tempered her passions greatly over the years and she was reticent to form close attachments of any sort now lest the beasts tear them away, but the yearning for closeness embedded deep within the human soul could never be quelled entirely.

“It’s just that…” Maria sighed. “I’m probably the only person alive whom she truly trusts and I would be betraying that if I made that known to her and she did not wish it return in.”

Priscilla nodded tracing the rim of her glass with her finger in thought.

“That’s wise to consider, but remember she is also a red-blooded human being despite everything. Perhaps that is the very thing she yearns for after all those years in isolation. Just be patient and let her come to you. She works in the library does she not? Then, surely she’s seen a copy of _How to Pick Up Fair Maidens_ and the multitudes of lecherous tales nobles read in their free time and has a concept of such things, no?”

Maria laughed and pinched the bridge of her nose embarrassment.

“You, girl, are insufferable,” Maria scoffed as they made their way back to their company.

As the night wore on, the drowsiness of the late hour coupled with the lulling effects on the red wine that had seeped its way into Evetta’s blood put her into a content stupor. She found the humming closeness of Maria’s body beside her on the sofa with the scent of her perfume mixed with her wine curiously heady. As others bade farewell for the night, they rose to retire as well giving each a departing hug. The castle seemed even darker and deafly quiet after hours of conversation and brightness They stopped in Evetta’s doorway when Maria initiated a farewell embrace.

“Thanks so much for coming. I hope it made me you feel more at home and less alone here,” She into her hair.

“I should be thanking you. You’re very kind,” Evetta murmured back.

“Sleep well,” Maria parted from her slightly to plant a tender kiss on her forehead.

“You too,” Being too small to return the same gesture, Evetta stood on her toes to briefly press her lips against Maria’s. She wasn’t why she did so, it simply felt like the only means to express her fondness of her. Maria stared down at her with a mixed of bemusement and adoration. Her gaze flicked up to her darkened simple room behind her and her expression fell slightly.

“Would…you like to come up to my room instead?” She asked tentatively, noting wanting this moment to end prematurely and recalling Priscilla’s earlier advice patience and holding windows of opportunity open.

“Of course, if it’s permitted,” she said also not wishing to part from her companion just yet.

She was eager to see how the esteemed warrior lived and discover more about details her past, tastes, and interests. Maria’s chambers was located in one of highest towers with a great window overlooking the forest-crowned lake with the generous light of the full moon’s opalescent presence making hardly necessary to light a candle. A large, brass orrey with the known heavenly bodies in their present positions driven by intricate clockwork glittered in its pale light along with many other curious instruments of inquiry which Evetta had no name for on a grand table where a vase of Lumenflowers strained with outstretched petals towards their luminous benefactor. A long narrow blade sat in a richly decorated sheath above the high, sculpted mantel.

“I’ve never seen a blade like that before,” Evetta said of the katana as Maria collected a night gown for them both from the armoire.

"The Chikage; one receives it from the Queen upon rising to the highest order of Vileblood knights. It’s merely a keepsake. I would never use such a blade. It derives its power from life essence of consumed blood. It’s the pinnacle of parasitic cowardice, really. There’s more honor in wielding a blade that is only as affective as one’s own skill allows it to be,” Maria explained. Evetta could tell that she cared strongly for not merely victory in of itself, but also the ethics by which it was achieved.

“Do you also-“

“Yes,” Maria confessed, knowing precisely what Evetta meant to ask.

“But only when I absolutely must and never in the indiscriminate and self-indulgent fashion the rest of the Vileblood clan does,” she added trying to restrain the venom in her voice.

“Does that scare you?” She handed her a nightgown. It would be quite long on her, but it mattered little for sleeping.

“For some reason, no. You had no control over the circumstances of your birth and your needs and yet you choose to be different.” Evetta began undressing on the spot having learned no shame in nakedness. Maria averted her gaze politely, but not before noticing a hideous, puckered claw mark scar on her solar plexus. She was more than lucky to be alive after an abdominal laceration like that. She disappeared behind a dressing screen to change as well.

“Ah, well, that gladdens me to hear.” She emerged from behind the screen and touched her cheek. “Again, I swear to you no harm will befall you here.”

“I trust you mean that, but you can’t always control the actions of others and take responsibility for them upon yourself.”

Maria said nothing. Believing that she could and should do just that was the trait that made the outcome of her deeds weigh so much heavier on her psyche giving her nightmares; making her physically sick. Perhaps she derived some sort warped comfort in believing that she was not helpless to the whims of fate and the wickedness of others. She seated herself at her vanity, unbound her hair, and began passing a brush through it with her eyes hooded in deep thought.

Evetta could not help but stare. She looked as ethereal in the moon’s pale light as the nymphs of the old tales and almost vulnerable in the delicate nightgown and the wave of her hair gently caressing her muscled shoulder blades. Evetta felt compelled to touch it.

“May I?” She asked nervously extending her palm over her shoulder.

“Of course,” Maria obliged placing the wooden brush in her hand and letting herself enjoy her soft strokes and gentle fingers on her scalp.

“It’s beautiful…like spun moonlight,” she breathed. Her hands trembled for some reason she couldn’t quite define. Maria let out a flattered, sheepish chuckle and rose to guide her down into the chair to return the favor.

“The same to you,”She crooned as she unwound her braid and brushed her wavy tresses into order. These quiet moments of tenderness were so rare in their falling world. They climbed into Maria’s four-poster bed bearing the softest mattress Evetta had ever felt and pulled the duvet over themselves. Maria made to drape an arm around her, but paused.

“Does it pain you?”

“Hm?”

“Your scar…I couldn’t help but notice.”

“Oh no, it’s quite all right. And you?

“I’m quite all right as well,” Maria confirmed with a contented sigh pulling her close and breathing her soothing scent. It had been decades since she held another like this and had believed that she never would again. She savored each second as they cruelly and inevitably passed; their little deaths marked by the ticks of the grandfather clock looming coldly beside the pair. Nestled under Maria’s chin, Evetta listened to the meditative rhythm of her heartbeat and breathing as sleep began to claim her; in wonder of the close proximity with another human being she never could have fathomed meeting until so very recently. Two galaxies enclosed in two bodies from so very different universes, entwined together, sharing in the simplicity of heartbeats, breaths, and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my head-canon, the events of Déraciné are the childhoods of Maria, Laurence, and Gerhman given the similarities of the characters' names and characteristics, all the Bloodborne Easter eggs, and suspiciously similar concepts in the lore, but I won't spoil it. So that's why I decided to some of the other Déraciné characters' names here :) 
> 
> I had a tough time with this chapter. Social phobia is my thing I work on and, ahhh, the empathy is so much! I'm not getting much practice in the 'rona times, either. Coordinating a room full of characters all doing different things while aiming for some degree of brevity was also tricky, but I hope I did all right. 
> 
> I also got the idea of Evetta's mask from the art of Anya Boz. Go check out her work!


	7. Sea of Nightmares

Evetta was woken by a flinch of the arm encircling her and immediately noticed Maria’s nightgown was soaked through with sweat. Her brow was furrowed and lips set in a pained grimace. She was having a nightmare, which not surprising to Evetta in of itself. It was only natural that the ordeals of the hunt should linger in her dreaming mind. She reached up to place a comforting hand on her cheek to wake her.

The room suddenly evaporated into blackness and her perception of her own body ceased as if she too had dematerialized. When her sight returned moments later, all was blindingly white and the sickening sensation in her stomach telegraphed that she was in free fall. A perception of heavy and moisture arose and she realized she was careening through clouds. Panic overwhelmed her as she flailed hopelessly until she remembered that she was merely in a dream. With the knowledge she would not perish from the fall, she straighten her legs towards the ground as she pierced the low-hanging clouds which revealed an undulating, obsidian sea.

Anything is possible in dreams, Evetta recalled. What the dreamers wills to happen, will happen. She landed heavily on top of the waves, but was uninjured. She staggered to her feet and examined the dreamscape as continuous rain drizzled down upon her. On the shore nestled in the hills, lay a dilapidated, rotting fishing hamlet with the masts of sunken ships surrounding the harbor like tombstones. It was surely a quaint locale in its prime, but something evil and perverted had happened here; something that defiled all natural laws and boundaries between… _something_. The pall of profound unholiness and evil Evetta felt just from gazing upon the village caused panic to rise in her once more. This was too real to be dream. The waves began stirring more excitedly under her.

She swiveled around wild-eyed for the source of the looming disturbance. She was suddenly launched ruthlessly off her feet as opalescent, cuttlefish-like giant of a creature erupted from the water. Its tentacles and long lateral fins twirled gracefully as it corkscrewed through the air and smashed down into the sea leaving violently churning waves in its wake. Amid the froth and foam, she spied a familiar fair-haired head bobbing pitifully in the chaotic water-Maria. She sprinted with all her might towards her hurdling most waves and being knocked to onto her back anew by the larger swells.

“Maria! You’re dreaming! Take my hand.” She commanded when she had finally reached her and extended her arm down to her. Maria eyes were wide with a mix of terror and shock at her apparition in her dream. Maria seized her arm just as another swell threatened to wrench her away. She kicked and thrashed panic-stricken for purchase in the cruel sea desperate to keep her head above the water.

“Maria, this isn’t real. Don’t try to step on the water, that’s impossible. There is no water. Believe in that,” She coaxed firmly. Her thrashing slowed and at last she was able to place one foot onto the sea’s surface. Evetta hoisted her up and draped the exhausted and waterlogged lady hunter’s arm over shoulder supporting her with an arm clasped tightly around her middle. Rosettes of crimson began blooming in the water as the creature passed like a ballista bolt beneath them. Soon the sea was scarlet to the horizon and a thick metallic smell collected sickeningly in her nostrils. Blood.

The creature emerged once more, splaying its tentacles like the petals of a Lumenflower revealing its grotesque maw filled with circular rows of needle-sharp teeth. It began to siphon the blood towards itself creating a mighty vortex that drew the pair ever closer to the back hole of its greedy throat like a landslide. Evetta clenched her eyes shut andchanneled all of her terror of their impending doom to her resolve to wake; to tear herself away from this cursed sea and banish the nightmare to a memory to be dissolved by the rays of dawn. The air before her fractured and crackled with rays of violet energy rushing into the fissure. Her instincts compelled her to seize its edge and tear it open like a curtain. The portal obeyed and she hurled herself through it just as the creature snapped its closed in an attempt to seize its fleeing prey.

Their eyes fluttered open simultaneously. The memory of what had just transpired snapped their drowsy daze like a bucket of ice water. Maria bolted out of bed as if Evetta had burned her.

“What in the name of gods was that? You, traversing dreams? How? That Nightmare is private to me,” She said severely. Rivulets of blood began to trickle from both of Evetta’s nostrils following the psychic strain of her feat.

“I don’t know. I just meant to wake you and I fell in, or was pulled it. I know nothing of that place and why that creature hunts you, I just didn’t want to see you in distress. I’m sorry,” she pleaded. A droplet of blood dripped from her nose onto her nightgown. She clasped a hand to her face to quell the flow. Maria softened at the pitiful sight and fetched a handkerchief from a drawer, offering it her as she sat down beside her. She sighed to collect herself.

“The Healing Church tampered with many things that ought to have to have been left alone: things concerning the fabric of our reality, psyche, and humanity. As a result of it we have the scourge of beasts, The Nightmares, and of this insanity leading extreme factions of the Choir and School of Mensis to believe the solution is simply more desecration of the mind and flesh…I was a once a cog in this doomsday machine and now I aim to dismantle it,” she said attempting to explain a labyrinthian course of events succinctly. Evetta wasn’t sure she understood.

“So, what they tampered with is related to that creature and that village in your dream?”

Maria nodded gravely.

“It wants to consume and possess the part of you that travels to dreams. You must slay it,” Evetta insisted. Maria bowed her head and messaged her temples.

“I can’t, I…”

“Let me help you,” Evetta placed a hand on her knee.

“I…don’t wish to speak on this matter any longer,” dismissed Maria shaking her head slowly. 

They sat in silence for a moment.

“I can tell you a secret, since I have seen yours.”

Maria look up intrigued.

“I didn’t survive…this,” Evetta began gesturing to the scar on abdomen. “It happened when my father turned when I was ten. The blow from his claws was so powerful they…went through to the other side. I managed to slit his throat just as he made to devour me, somehow, but death claimed us both. Of that I am certain. I remember an ethereal creature with thousands of antlers ending in eyes appearing when I did not feel my body anymore. I remember being submerged into a pristinely clear spring with skeletons of every species imaginable littered along the bottom, raised from it, and somehow sent back. I have very sparse and scattered memories of my life prior to the beast killing me. That is the true reason why I could not recall my name…Do you remember at the cabin? When you asked me if something was there as we left? There was. Behind that cliff is where it happened. It was there trying to whisper to me.”

Maria stared at her. She had without question made contact with an Eldritch Being and was perhaps bound by it to her own Dream just as moonlit hunters were. It explained her scent and invasion into her nightmare.

“Your secret is safe with me,” She promised sincerely. “If any new strange occurrences arise, or if the whispers trouble your mind too much, you need to tell me or Priscilla, understood? We will not think you weak or blame you for it. Take the remainder of this day off from your duties in the library to rest. There are many in the Church who strive to make contact with such beings as you have and would use you in grotesque ways…Be careful. I-you’re very dear to me.” 

Maria embraced her tightly Evetta returned it with equal fervor.

“You as well,” Evetta parted from her and stroked her cheek. “my good hunter.”

The pair gazed at each other before their faces drifted together and their lips cautiously brushed one another. Maria clasped the nape of her neck gingerly and brought her mouth more firmly against hers. Evetta wasn’t certain of what to do in this form of embrace, but tighten her arm around her shoulders to indicate that she welcomed her closeness. Maria rolled her lips sensuously on hers as she followed her lead. They parted for air and Maria leaned her forehead against hers and chuckled softly.

“Oh, you pearl.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The matrix has you, Maria! 
> 
> This was an actual dream I had apart from the fishing hamlet and bloodied water before I ever played Bloodborne or knowing much about Lovecraft . Perhaps I've heard the Call of Cthulhu? It was intense.


	8. A New Kind of Duel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moaaar Fluff! ^.^

Maria was restless; her mind in overdrive contemplating every detail of the first installment in her plan to infiltrate Cathedral Ward set to unfold the following day. She anticipated every enemy she could meet, rehearsed the routes through Yharnam’s maze of streets that provided the most cover and potential recourses should the worst possible outcomes come to pass. She had spent the larger portion of the afternoon in the courtyard training with her blade to calm her tumultuous mind and hone her lethal muscle memory. Even still, she found herself troubled; perhaps it was simply because the time was nigh, or perhaps something intimately precious that bore a faint promise of a future beyond the reconciliation of the past, of hope, was now at stake. Evetta.Her restless legs transported her to her door as if on autopilot and she knocked softly.

“Yes?” Evetta opened while wiping paint from her fingers with handkerchief bearing colorful smudges on a scavenged servant’s apron. Her eyes brightened when she saw who her unannounced visitor was. Maria found the sight quite endearing. Evetta hurriedly untied the stained apron to take Maria into an eager embrace. 

“I just…wanted to see you,” Maria said unable to formulate any other excuse while stroking her back. Evetta sensed worry in her tone.

“Ah, well, I’m always gladdened by that,” She said giving her a peck on her cheek. “I’ve just been experimenting with the paints Keeper Helga let me use today.” She gestured to the small canvass she had be toiling at which bore the unfinished image of the lake and snow-covered forested hills outside her window. “It’s a bit of a challenge to mix the colors to exactly the right hue I need, but I’ll learn.”

“It’s certainly coming together. I was thinking…why don’t you and I go out and get a little combat training in, hm?” Maria suggested. Evetta was no helpless damsel, but to see the scope of her skill repertoire and refine it under her instruction appeared a proactive means to ease Maria’s mind.

“Of course! I will not be besting you anytime soon, though,” she said with a timid smile.

“I know. I’ll play nice,” Maria smirked stealing a kiss from her lips.

They traveled to the courtyard where knights and soldiers had undergone their grueling training regimens throughout the ages. It lay empty with a pristine coat of powered snow over armored dummies and arrays of rope-bound poles that silently awaited new challengers hoping to practice their techniques. Maria selected a wooden katana from the rack of sparring weapons and Evetta chose twin wooden daggers out of familiarity.

“It is permitted to strike the upper body and arms, but legs and head we will avoid. Why don’t we start by seeing where you are and go from there?” Maria strode a few paces from her and readied her katana. “Don’t be shy, now, I can take a hit from a wooden training weapon I promise.”

Evetta hesitated still. She had never fought against a human with their wits about them before. The clumsy swings of hostile villagers on their irreversible descent into madness and beasthood were surely child’s play compared to the techniques of a seasoned hunter. She dashed left and jabbed swiftly with one dagger. Maria pivoted and blocked it by angling the katana as she anticipated she might. In a split second, Evetta spun and countered with the other aiming a lower this time only to have Maria jerk the blade from its guard position to send the blade flying out of her grip.

“Oops. Good try, though,” Maria said as she reset her stance while Evetta retrieved the weapon. Maria attacked first this time with a simple vertical swing. Her partner quick-stepped right and just as Maria pivoted to follow up, Evetta struck at the opening in her guard under her ribs and swept Maria’s legs out from under her depositing her on the snow where she let out an involuntary yelp of surprise.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” Evetta cried and extended a hand down to her. She only laughed and came swiftly to her feet without taking it.

“There’s no need for apologies. I’m glad. Just remember to follow up and finish it without hesitation when you put a real enemy on the ground,” She said with a proud glint in her eye. Maria instructed her on how to effectivize her swings’ speed and range in succession on the dummy and how to improve her footwork to allow for faster dodges around the post. They took a moment to rest on the stairs. Evetta rested her head on the hardened leather of her hunter’s coat protecting Maria’s shoulders and chest while she cradled her hand in hers as they enjoyed a brief moment of respite.

“Ah, if only Eileen was here. She is the best dual-dagger wielder I know and she would teach you well. We used to be hunting partners long ago. You’ll meet her soon if everything goes well tomorrow,” Maria said somewhat absently, her mind stretched between memories of what was and the unknown tomorrow held.

“What are you planning?” Evetta asked concerned.

“I need to contact other hunters who have also left the services of the church and open the covert passages that connect the city so our forces can move efficiently when the time comes to invade Upper Cathedral Ward. But it’s tricky…”Maria pinched the bridge of her nose conjuring the image of the streets of Yharnam in her mind. “It’s like I would need to be in multiple places at once to find those I seek and remain unnoticed while opening the city’s backdoors…”

Evetta bumped her knee with hers playfully. “Let me help you, then.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Sneaking around in tombs and sewers will certainly be no glamorous adventure.”

Evetta shrugged. “Most essential tasks are not,” she recalled the stinking, laborious process of butchering and skinning animal carcasses that inevitably followed the jubilation over asuccessful hunt. She reviled it, but when done with care, it ensured that every part of her quarry would help to sustain her for a long while. “And as you say, it is a means to an important end.”

Maria thoughtfor a moment. “Hmm, if you manage to hit me three times before I hit you three times in a real bout, I just might permit it.” She rose and dusted off her coat.

“We have a deal,” Evetta said rising to her full height feeling an ember of competitiveness and anticipation flutter in her chest. They readied themselves in the center of the courtyard. A faint, sly smile pulled at Maria’s lips before she feinted with her katana causing Evetta to start violently in vain.

“Oh, jumpy are we?" She said amusedly before lunging at her closing far more distance than Evetta could have imagined in less than a blink of an eye. She threw herself to the side and rolled through the snow to land on her feet behind Maria’s back. The second her mind registered the opportunity before her, Maria had already whirled to face her and struck her ribs with a horizontal slash.

“One.”

Evetta cheeks burned with shame she backed out to regroup. Maria readied a vertical strike prompting Evetta to dash forward under and past the blade halting the swing of Maria’s arms with her gauntleted forearm before striking at her exposed middle and rolling away.

“One,” She said in a competitive growl.

“Good, it pays stay offensive and create your own openings.”

She wound up a diagonal swing that exposed her ribs to her opponent who lunged forward at the opportunity. Just as her blade was about to meet its mark, Maria had vanished and in a surge of wind, had reappeared at her left shoulder and scored a point on her side while she stood stunned in shock and awe.

“Ah, come on! What was that?” Evetta protested.

“The hunters’ art of quickening developed by my mentor, the beast-hunter Gehrman. One taps into the arcane to move faster than the eye can perceive. Strength alone will never overcome the fiercest of beasts and hunters must rely on speed and cunning survive. I think I’m going too easy on you,” she smirked.

Maria evaded each of her furious swings in whirlwinds of mirthful chuckles. She was adorable when she was frustrated and getting winded; like an eager kitten pouncing towards a feather tied to string that is jerked from its reach at the last second each time. Evetta gathered a fist-full of snow and hurled it at Maria’s grinning face the second she vanished revealing her location and briefly stunning her to finally open the opportunity for a swift retaliation.

“That’s two! Since we’re fighting dirty, now.”

“Good, no beast or man fights fair out there and nor should you,” Maria nodded approvingly pleased she could think on her feet to gain the upper hand when at an unfair disadvantage. Using one’s environment was crucial. 

It clicked that Evetta should strike where she anticipated Maria would appear. She was far too quick to be met where she stood. She feinted a lunge and in an instant felt a surge of air whistle past her ear and pivoted to strike. Maria grunted as the wooden dagger clipped her ribs. Before Evetta could triumphantly announce her victory, Maria seized her from behind with an arm as strong as steel and held the wooden katana to her throat. Evetta’s chest heaved in her vice-like embrace.

“Well done…but I still win this round,” she whispered dangerously against the shell of her ear sending a wave of curious chills through her adrenaline-wracked body. Evetta twisted to capture her lips with hers letting the wooden daggers fall to the snow. Maria let her own katana fall to tangle her fingers in her hair as she kissed her furiously. She parted her lips slightly touching her tongue to their girl’s lower lip. She followed suit hesitantly, but grew bolder under the Vileblood’s lead. Maria began to cautiously let her hands wander. Dare she take a being so pure? One hand grazed her collar bone and glided over the swell of her breast before giving it a lustful squeeze sending a shock of heat through her nerves that settled in her loins and procured a curious, visceral yearning not unlike hunger-a primitive impulse to seek the warmth of another. She broke the kiss.

“What is this? This feeling?”

“Do you wish me to stop?” Maria stroked her head soothingly. She had anticipated this reaction.

“No, I…suppose it’s pleasant, but I’ve just never felt this before.”

Maria held her close and lowered her lips to her ear.

“It is a beautiful thing-a force of nature in the heart of all life. There is no shame or fear in it. I can show you just how deep it goes, should you wish it…liberate you, from your wild curiosity…” she crooned in a husky whisper.

Her words sunk into Evetta’s blood like a thick droplet of black ink into water. Her hesitation of allowing this new primordial hunger to consume her and of sharing something so vulnerable gave her pause for a few moments pregnant with anticipation, but inquisitiveness and a yearning for even more closeness with her dearest companion ultimately swayed her.

“Yes…show me,” she murmured into the crook of her neck.

“Come,” Maria commanded softly taking her hand.

They strode swiftly through the maze of corridors with their heads swiveling and peering tentatively around corners for any passerby who might spot the pair. When they finally arrived at Maria’s door, they surged inside and the huntress locked it with a definitive click. She turned to face Evetta slowly with a hungry, triumphant glint in her eyes like a lioness ready to pounce on a wayward fawn. She leapt into the lioness’s jaws willingly. It became a new kind of duel to discover and exploit each other’s weaknesses that enticed them over the edge of their inhibitions and to succumb. Maria was a patient and thoughtful teacher and guided her to the apex that shattered in pulses of ecstasy and visceral satiation. She lay sweating, trembling, andso painfully vulnerable in Maria’s embrace in the aftermath of partaking in her communion. Maria smoothed the tousled locks of her spent lover and kissed her temple tenderly.

“How are you feeling?” She asked softly leaning her forehead against hers.

“I feel…small,” she answered with a sheepish smile unable to quite articulate the current of wordless emotions deep with in her.

“That’s ok. I have you,” Maria soothed. Her heart ached with happiness over courses of fate that had brought this woman into her life. Her muse, the brightest star in her dark sky.“Will you stay with me this evening?

“Of course, we can’t have you fatigued from nightmares on our little excursion tomorrow, can we?” She said somewhat playfully and laid a hand on her cheek and stroking her thumb under her melancholic jade eye softened by her warmth. Maria’s hand came up to hold hers there.

“Yes…we both need ample rest,” she sighed.

Their entwined bodies grew heavy with drowsiness and drifted into dreamless slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've uploaded each chapter I've had stockpiled so far, so from here on out I will update at least twice per week. There's still much more action and drama to come and I'm feeling very inspired and motivated about this story :D


	9. Into Gentle Dark

“Evetta…It’s time to wake up,” Maria patted the sleeping girl’s cheek. She had woken long before the sun and illuminated the still-dark room with a cluster of candles. When Evetta’s eyes fluttered open, Maria was already dressed in her trousers, shirt, and vest with her coat and boots laid out beside an assortment of supplies on the table and was in the process of tying back her fair hair with a black ribbon. She had allowed her a few extra minutes of sleep as a small mercy. She retrieved a folded black garment from the armoire and stroked it nostalgically before turning to Evetta to lay it at the foot of the bed.

“Where you’ll be going, you’ll need something to help you blend in.”

Evetta slipped into the black robe quickly and twisted to inspect the white sash fluttering at her back. It was finely embroidered with the emblem of the Healing Church in silver thread and it occurred to her that she bore a nun’s attire. It was a shrewd disguise, but something wasn’t right.

“Wait, how did a Healing Church nun’s garb come into Cainhurst’s possession?” she asked wondering if the now mortal enemies covertly collaborated in some capacity or if Maria had even been a nun in her past.

Maria sat at the edge of the bed forlornly. “They belonged to a former lover…who is now no longer alive.”

“By the gods…I’m so sorry,” Evetta wrapped her arms about her shoulders immediately regretting bringing up such a painful subject.

“We became close during the earliest days of the hunt when the Workshop worked in close alliance with the Church before it split numerous, more nefarious factions.It’s forbidden by decree of the Church for two women to be involved with each other, but we were nonetheless together for many years. Shortly after I retired from hunting after what we did at the fishing hamlet, she volunteered for the Choir’s research program to ascend human consciousness by transfusing modified cerebrospinal fluid, I chose to work in the research hall tending to patients to stay close to her as they would never allow visitors from the outside. I didn’t carry out the research protocols as I’m no doctor, you see. I was simply there to manage their pain and provide psychological support. In the trials’ advanced phases, their bodies and minds mutated into abominations where agony was all that they knew…”

Maria put her face in her hands and shook her head. She wasn’t sure why she consistently revealed everything plaguing her mind to Evetta. It was far out of character for her to spill her guts to anyone who would listen, but perhaps she sensed that there was less risk in confiding in an outsider unattached to the complex and treacherous webs of fealty that made up the shredded fabric of social order in this fallen world.

“What was her name?” Evetta asked.

“Adeline. Or Saint Adeline to use her title in the Church. She was a Blood Saint-one who imbibes the Old Blood in order to increase its volume and potency to offer it to the congregation.”

“Saint Adeline,” Evetta repeated, giving Maria’s shoulders a squeeze. The very feeling of arms cloaked in the texture of the nun’s robe embracing her evoked a bittersweet pang of longing from Maria.

“She kept her sanity far longer than any of the other subjects…until the end, and even found the process blissful. She insisted that this feeling of spiritual ascension she perceived was what she wanted even as it destroyed her body and killed her. She chose it over me…as I watched her wither and die."

While attached to the Dream, Maria had experienced her own death in all sorts of unspeakable ways: Bullets through the heart, claws puncturing lungs, blades slicing open vital arteries, a shattered skull, dismemberment…none of those experiences compared to the pain of her love’s slow, agonizing, and voluntary departure from a life with her. It was a mortal wound to the soul.

“I still continued working in the research hall some years after that. Every single patient was someone’s loved one. Every one of them had others going through the pain that I went through. I felt I owed it to those people to care for them the best I could. As the failed experiments mounted and number of potential volunteers withered due to the worsening beast plague, the Choir began taking advantage of orphaned children, displaced persons, and foreign prisoners who comprehended nothing of what was happening to them. They fared the worst. I could bear it no longer. At that point…the Church was either going to be destroyed or I would.”

Evetta didn’t know what to say. She had understood Cainhurst’s campaign against the Healing Church and its affiliates as an ideological and humanitarian cause, but did not comprehend the personal weight it bore for Maria.

“We’ll do it for her, for Adeline, together.” She assured her, taking her face in her hands and sealing her promise with a chaste kiss. Maria smiled sadly.

“Yes…we shall.”

She rose and led her to the map splayed open on the table.

“We’ll begin by descending into the labyrinth just below the castle and take the deep road into Yharnam. There, we’ll try to locate Olek, a former hunter of the Church who retired to live amongst the Pthumerians and study their arcane arts. He will likely have valuable intel on the types of arcane power the Choir is attempting to channel and of any hidden weapons they might have uncovered. There is an exit to the surface under Central Yharnam and it is there we will part ways as I search for Eileen and then Djura in Old Yharnam. Continue along the sewers until you see a ladder that will bring you to the graveyard outside of Oedon Chapel. From here, you’ll search for the most important and most dangerous shortcut that connects the lower districts of Cathedral Ward. This area is highly trafficked by Church clergy, so be wary of anyone bearing the same sash that you wear. I would surely be recognized and instantly killed if I attempted to traverse this area myself…. There is a door in the Chapel that will lead to an elevator and you’ll find the shortcut at the root of the adjoining tower. If you reach a golden door at the top of that tower, you’ve gone too far and you are not to enter it. Beyond it lies the seat of the Church, perhaps the most treacherous place in the world at this time…As an aside, you’ll find the former hunters’ workshop on your descent in the tower. It is long abandoned, but it might be worth a look around should you have time.”

Evetta nodded, assured by the thoroughness of the explanation and stapling every detail into her memory.

“Since you can commune with Dreams somehow, perhaps you can use this should you run into trouble,” Maria added handing her a notebook bound in heavy leather. “Simply write a note, and the Messengers will ensure I receive it.”

“The Messengers?”

“You’ll see. Just don’t be alarmed.” Maria smiled slightly at the memory of those sinister-looking yet playful imps.

She allowed Evetta to keep the map, compass, and a pocket watch with which to coordinate their reunion at the passage below the tower at a determined time in the evening. They assembled the remainder of their gear and weapons and slipped silently through the still slumbering castle down to the bowels of the dungeons and to a stone elevator guarded by an iron gate which Maria parted with a crude, ancient-looking key.

The dank scent of earth, moss, and damp stone enveloped them as they began their rattling descent on the precarious lift. As the faint light of the candles above faded away, Evetta sheathed a single dagger to cradle a small ball of flame in her palm that fluttered with a soothing warmth against the chilled air. Maria followed suit lighting a small gas-powered lamp at her hip. The velvety darkness that cloaked the borders of the sphere of illumination around them was oppressive, bearing a more profound depth than any darkness that existed above ground as Maria strode with agonizingly swift and intrepid strides into the blackness. A darting movement behind a stone pillar at its edge caught Evetta’s eye, then another. This time she caught a glimpse of the creature: an emaciated pygmy humanoid that shielded its eyeless sockets against the interlopers’ light and retreated into the shadows.

“What exactly are those things?” Evetta asked warily.

“Hollows-cursed undead those humanity has decayed away who remain from the third Age of Fire. They pose no threat to us as they are our wards and subjects. According to the tales, the forbearers of Cainhurst’s royal family, the Darkwraith sisters Yuria, Liliane, and Elfriede founded the Sable Church under the primordial serpent Kaathe to bring the Hollows salvation and to bring about the sovereignty of humanity by aiding a powerful Ashen sorceress in usurping the First Flame of the gods. Here, they live on in peace. Alongside the descents of Irithyllians bearing the blood of the old gods, they make their home in what we know call Pthumeria.”

Evetta’s memory flickered back to the formless, undulating, and ancient presence she had felt coiled around Queen Annalise and the vacant throne beside her during their first meeting. _A serpent…of course._ She said nothing on that matter to Maria.

“It sounds like a grand tale,” she said simply.

“Of course, it is just a legend and a rather far-fetched one at that,” she chuckled. “I think many things we associate with mysticism has more rational, empirical explanations but there is so much in the fundamentals of nature that squirm away from our attempts to understand and control them.”

“Perhaps we never will. There is sometimes little comfort to be found in the why of things. Perhaps it’s enough to understand how reality works and simply accept it as it is,” Evetta offered finding their musings comforting as they traversed the blackness.

“That may be so. Not all secrets yield benefits…as every soul affected by this beast scourge knows very well. Ah, here; this is the door we want,” She stopped at a stone door engraved with the effigy of a robed woman with her face modestly concealed by a cowl as she cradled a what appeared to be a bundle of flame as one would an infant. A great scythe borne by her left hand loomed ominously over her. Maria heaved it open and the chamber retaliated from being woken from its slumber with a showering of earth and pebbles upon her shoulders.

Here, the dark yielded to a wash of pale moonlight tinged with the first breaths of dawn from a great fissure in the earth above. A thriving, extravagant garden stood eerily motionless sheltered from the breeze of the surface with exception of glowing, wiry blossoms with stems and roots resembling a human spinal cord and nerves swaying pendulously as if their heads hung in deep contemplation. A dark figure sat cross-legged on the rim of a gurgling fountain at the garden’s heart gazing meditatively into the patters of smooth ripples left in the wake of the agitated water. Maria called to him cautiously.

“Ser Olek?”

He craned his neck to peer at them past the edge of his hood, then rose and faced them upon recognizing the visitor.

“Lady Maria…why, it’s been years…” he said in a hoarse whisper of astonishment.

Maria performed a shallow bow curling her arm up to her chest. It was a customary salutation and gesture of peace from one hunter to another.

“Indeed it has. Much has changed, and not for the better I’m afraid.”

“And, who might this be? Have you a Blood Saint with you?” He asked letting his gaze fall to the younger woman behind Maria. His deep-set brown eyes flickered with longing in his craggy, aged face.

“This is Evetta, my partner,” Maria answered smiling lightly at those words that as she uttered them. They felt definitive and permanent; a rare comfort in life.

Evetta bowed her head politely.

“Pleased to meet you, but I am no Blood Saint. I’ve come to assist Lady Maria on her mission to Cathedral Ward,” she explained purposefully retaining a formal opacity. His expression dimmed in disappointment as his longing for the Church’s holy Eucharist would not be sated.

“Cainhurst is organizing against the Church and we know from Pthumeria’s ambassador that they made contact in the labyrinth and that they still aim to retrieve lost sorceries to use the Great Ones’ power in the waking world,” Maria said cutting straight to the purpose of their meeting. 

Olek shrunk away from Maria’s directness.

“Indeed…It was I who helped them uncover that which they sought. But I will have nothing to do with the Church and such profaned contortion of nature any longer.” He looked away from her, his eyes eyelids heavy with guilt, but steadfast in his will to forget.

“You know very well of the unforgivable things I’ve done, Olek. I know you do not condone Cainhurst’s customs and nor do I, but a chance for redemption will likely not arise again for an order of ages. We will surely fail without your knowledge of what they found in the tombs of the gods. I implore you, impart your insight to Queen Annalise and Archmage Priscilla so we may end this nightmare for good.” Maria’s voice was stern, but bore about it a tender mercy like an iron gauntlet sheathed in a silk glove.

A pregnant, obstinate pause clung to the still air between them.

“Very well…I haven’t much time left in this world. I suppose I can invest what little remains to your cause. You seek to enter Yharnam, do you not?”

Relief visibly loosened the tension in Maria’s countenance. She nodded.

“Then you’ll do well to avoid the passage ahead, it has collapsed into a treacherous sinkhole and a spill of research chemicals below one of the Church’s satellite laboratories has transformed it into a highly toxic swamp. I do know of a detour, however.”

The duo’s faces brightened. Already was his allyship indispensable.

A ventilation grate in the side of a modest hill with a cluster of dilapidated homes huddled beneath it yielded with Olek’s flourish of a beaded charm and pull of an adjacent iron lever. The two women stepped out on to the roof and into the rose rays of dawn. Olek remained in the shadows’ respite with a weak smile and twinkle of hope in his deep-set eyes.

“You have my thanks, Olek,” Maria said sincerely. “Make haste to Cainhurst, the Queen will be expecting you.”

He bowed his head as he took his leave. “May the Good Blood guide your way.”

The sunrise had bloomed into a mandala of fire over the distant sea. The pair paused to gaze at it in awe. Evetta turned to Maria and linked her arms around her waist.

“I guess…this is where we part?” She said reluctantly breaking the moment of reverie admiring how her magnetic, pale-green irises scattered the golden light of dawn. Maria wrapped one arm about her in return and brought her opposite hand up to stroke her cheek.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” She gazed down at her with a mixture of fondness and melancholy. She tightened her embrace and laid Evetta’s head against the silk jabot nestled between the hardened leather plates of her frock coat. “Be careful. I know you will…don’t forget about the notebook should the worst come to pass,” She muttered against her hair dreading the thought.

“I’ll not forget. I’ll be praying for your safety every moment,” Evetta vowed earnestly.

The two shared a long, heavy kiss with neither of them wanting to break it. Evetta tore herself away. “Go on, now. I will be waiting for you at the base of the tower,” She urged giving her a reassuring smile and squeeze of her hands.

Maria located a wooden ladder extending to the street below and turned to face her once more as her stepped onto the first rung to descend. Evetta nodded once hopefully. Maria nodded gravely in return before disappearing into the cobblestone maze of the ruined city below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of Lore in this chapter! LoL! 
> 
> In my head-canon, Bloodborne and Dark Souls are linked chronologically. Given the similarities of Yuria of Londor's helmet and weapons to those of Cainhurst's, the description of the vampiric Dark Hand/Life Drain ability unique to Londor, and the reviled, taboo reputation of Londor and Cainhurst, I'm going out on a limb so say they're related and take artistic liberties with that hypothesis. I'll elaborate more on this as I use my theory to support the course of the plot, so stay tuned. 
> 
> There will be more action and fun in the streets of Good Ol' Yharnam coming soon.


	10. A Brutal, Chaotic World

Evetta clung to the shadows evading the scythe and plow-bearing mobs of volunteer huntsman that mindlessly patrolled Yharnam’s streets and alleys; lost in the haze of blood-drunkeness and deformed by sickness. The city was eerily silent and yet her senses where even still overwhelmed by the towering, ornately adorned edifices and winding streets strewn with the artifacts of the thousands who had once called it home. The beast plague appeared to have overwhelmed the city in a rapid and devastating fashion. Coffins lined the streets as the dead multiplied faster than the living could provide them a customary burial. Corpses of horses laying rotting in their traces bound to carriages laden with ravaged trunks vomiting out clothing, family pictures, documents, jewelry, children’s toys, and all manner of memorabilia amid the corpses of their occupants. Evetta inspected such monuments of despair with a morbid curiosity in trying to piece together a life so foreign from the one she knew. 

The breeze howled hollowly over the expanse of a great bridge into the heart of the metropolis spanning from the towering Healing Church. According to the map, the cistern that would lead her into its imposing walls ran just under it. She peered over the railing and her face fell with dismay. In the dark, watery passage legions numbering in the hundreds of bloated, undead corpses writhed in the fetid muck plagued by the flocks of ravenous carrion crows that feasted upon them. As languid as their tormented motions appeared, charging in so grossly outnumbered could not end well. She had to formulate an alternate route.

Her gaze fell to the obstinately high wall of the Church. With its craggy, luxuriously adorned surface climbing it was plausible. Yet, every eyelet in the looming tower could conceal one who happened a chance glance out of the window to sound an alarm over a suspicious figure scaling the wall. A great tree that could offer cover splayed its branches above its rim a short distance away, but getting to it would require deft sidling along the thin strip of earth that ended in a sheer drop to the pit of decay and corpses below. 

She straddled the railing and tested her grip against the smoothly molded concrete. Her gloves were too smooth and thick to feel the stone properly and so she promptly yanked them off and stuffed them in her robe before heaving herself out onto the ledge with thin, strong fingers firmly latched to the contours of the fortress. She dared not think of the certain painful death that pressed against her back as she began to side-step and kept her focus firmly on her center of gravity.

When at last she reached the portion of the wall concealed by the tree’s canopy, the most daunting part was then to gain her footing on the wall. If only she could grasp the effigy of a robed, weeping woman with arms pressed to her face in despair inside a small alcove. At least it would mourn her should she fail.With all her strength her legs could lend her, she exploded off the earthen ledge and hooked her hands onto the statue’s elbows and swung her heels up to catch the alcove. She stayed that way clutching the woman as though she were her own lost mother as she waited for the burst of adrenaline to subside into controlled focus before crawling inside the space behind it.

She heaved at it to see if would bear her weight. The next portion would be far easier- deeply molded filigree and rosettes provided optimal hand and foot-holds. Crouched low, she sidled to the edge of the weeping statue not daring to gaze into the steep drop before rising and continuing her climb to the wall’s apex. Her relief and fatigue had not long to fade, before a sight below made her blood run cold.

A pale, painfully thin figure clad in a tattered burlap robe crouched with its back to the intruder at the base of the tree making curious smacking and slurping noises. It appeared to have some sort of deformity its to head. It was a pitiful and grotesque sight, but it didn’t appear all that threatening. She tugged her gloves back on and drew her daggers before plunging to strike. The blade opened a thick gash in the creature’s back which to her shock spattered pus colored blood.

The creature whirled on her let out a shrill cry of exaltation from its inhuman tentacle-covered mouth over the prey it so desperately craved appearing before it as it flailed its bony, clawed hands at its attacker. One of them connected with shocking strength on Evetta’s left shoulder as she attempted to dodge away and its long fingers seized her arm like vice pulling her towards its horrid mouth with a gluttonous groan. Her opposite arm flew up and in frenzied desperation, she bashed the dagger into its face with rapid strikes that sprayed pale blood from its severed tentacles onto the earth. The gaunt hand loosened as its lifeless body fell away. She rubbed the area tenderly. Surely it would create a colorful bruise, but she was glad to walk away with merely that.

OOOOOOO

Maria caught the scent of fresh blood. Still warm, and untainted at that. It carried her to a house now darkened with its windows and door smashed in. An incense burner lay empty and cold beside the splitters that once comprised a door. A poor family must have run out during the night. Incense was an expensive commodity o ward off the beasts made scarce by the Church reserving the lion’s share of its supply to clergy with mostly the wealthy merchant class and aristocracy in Cathedral Ward being able to afford ample amounts of it to safeguard their homes. She bore she Rakuyo and Evelyn at the ready and stepped inside.

The offending beast had vanished leaving its wake shattered furniture and three partially consumed corpses of a man , woman, and teenage girl who lay strewn about like discarded dolls. It was a grisly and tragic scene, but the warmth of their blood may even still be just enough to quell the growing thirst gnawing at the edges of her being for a little longer. Steeling herself to sate her nature she loathed, she knelt and rolled the teen onto her back. Th instant she did so, a soft sniffling and rustling came from behind her. She came quickly to her feet and whirled around to spy a small girl no older than eight crawling out from under an overturned rocking chair clutching a teddy bear to her filthy nightgown. Maria’s heart sunk. Gods below, have mercy just for once.

“Miss Hunter?” The girl tottered forward with her arms outstretched and face scrunched with restrained sobs. Maria crouched to meet her and let her knot her dirty hands around her neck feeling the rough fabric of the sawdust-stuffed bear press into her skin.

“A monster came. It ate mamma, papa, and sissy! Why?” she sobbed into her lapel. The poor wretch had nothing now. To take her into death’s comforting embrace so that her living blood would fully sustain her would be the most humane thing Maria could do for her, but…she could not. Not as she stood in her arms sobbing in relief at the sight of a hunter, the icon of the Church’s protection and goodwill, in the aftermath such profound tragedy.

“I’m sorry…if only I had been here sooner,” Maria said softly. “Do you know of Oedon Chapel? You will find food and shelter there.”

The girl nodded firmly. “Yes, we go there for mass every Sunday.”

“Then go. Quickly. There is nothing for you here anymore. Run, and do not tarry no matter what happens until you arrive,” Maria commanded. _Flee from the beasts and from me…_

The girl balked at the intensity of her tone and backed away with a pained, conflicted expression twisting her small features before darting out the door pumping her arms furiously to drive her short legs as fast as they could carry her.

Maria gazed sullenly in her wake. She knew very well what the Healing Church did to orphans…of the tortuous death that she had sent the child to simply to wash her hands of the guilt over the inevitable death of helpless in Yharnam. She cursed herself for being so hideously selfish despite being faced with a choice no one with a shred of human empathy should have to make. She could only pray someone at the chapel would spare her from their diabolical depravity.

OOOOOOOO

Evetta lurked behind the gold-plated door to Oedon Chapel she had come to through a waterlogged underground passage and watched warily as a man in a thick white robe bearing the Healing Church’s insignia lit the hundred of candles and incense burners lining the quaint, but lavish chapel. Their light glowed invitingly on the marble statues of revered saints and golden relics displayed upon the altar and the thick, peculiar scent of the incense made her want to hold her breath. The man prostrated himself before the altar bowing his curly blond-haired head to the floor in prayer when he completed his task. Many minutes passed. Evetta glanced anxiously at the pocket-watch and cursed under her breath. She did not have all day to wait for him to leave. She spied the door of which Maria spoke beyond his line sight and she had a clear shot with the man engrossed in his litanies. Her hurriedly traversed the room straining to silence her footfalls that echoed softly, but painfully in the chamber and reached the small door.

“You there, miss?”

Her blood ran cold as ice. She turned to face him with her heart hammering in her ears.

“You’re not allowed outside the Church at this hour. It’ll soon be nightfalll and the beasts will be upon our doorsteps once more. You’re missing supper and you’ll be late for evening prayers,” he chided softly more concerned than angry.

“I-I was looking for my cat! It would be simply dreadful if he were stuck outside with the beasts all night! Oh, please, you must understand. He’s black and white and answers to Patches,” she explained injecting every ounce of her alarm into feigned concern over the imaginary cat and inventing of the most generic name for a spotted house-cat she could think of. 

“And you’re not allowed pets, either…” The duty-bound man frowned.

“I know…but he does keep the mice away and keeps me such good company. Such joys are rare in these times,” she confessed keeping her eyes downcast pitifully.

The man’s face softened.

“I will escort you back to the Church and search for Patches during my vigil, then. How does that sound?”

“Oh, thank you so much, good sir! You are most kind,” Evetta said genuinely relieved to have averted confrontation, but wary about the prospect of an unexpected escort.

They rode the lift up into the high tower in stiff silence with her pulse rising again just as steeply and exited onto a footbridge that offered the most exquisite view of the grandeur of the Cathedral Ward’s spires and the adjoining forest at its boundaries. Evetta could not help but admire its splendor in spite of the situation. She sighted the descending spiral staircase she was to take to the root of the second tower they now entered, but the white-robed man continued to lead her into its upper reaches.

She had to separate herself from him somehow. Her subterfuge could hold so long once inside the tightly connected order of the Church. She considered running, but returning to her destination would be nigh impossible once the warden had been made aware of that she bore ulterior motives. They came to a small room with a low, arched ceiling filled with an almost unbearably suffocating fog from dozens of incense burners clustered protectively around an engraved double door-the very one Maria had warned her not to enter.

“Well, here is where I leave you. You’ll be safe past this point and trust you know the way to refectory.”

Elation bloomed in her breast.

“I do, sir. I thank you again,” she said politely transforming her visible relief at being left to her devices into an expression of flattering veneration men of high station seemed to like.

“I don’t belief I have met you before. I am Alfred, apprentice to Master Logarius,” He said and extended a gauntleted hand to her with a consuming depth in his gaze she had only seen before in Maria’s. Only this time it elicited a heavy dread rather than flutters of joy in her chest. She took his hand and shook it weakly.

“Well…I will see you around, Alfred.” She flipped open her pocket-watch. “Oh dear, is it really that late? I must hurry!” She was desperate to avoid providing a name that could be checked against any clerical records should his apparent interest in her entice him to do so.

“I won’t keep you, then,” Alfred said with a subtle smile and nodded.

Evetta listened carefully to his receding footsteps as he descended the tower and stilled her rattled nerves before following steadily after. The wooden spiraling stairs were mercifully empty and quite dim. A great double-door appeared three-quarters of the way down just as Maria had described where the abandoned workshop would be, but she elected to attend to their primary duty first. The base of the tower held towers of crates bearing all manner of comestible staples in the cool darkness.

At the gateway through which supply wagons would bring their cargo stood a dark, hunched figure. Evetta drew her blades and approach cautiously. It appeared to facing away from her, perhaps slumbering. It did not stir as she neared it, now standing just pace from it. It appeared to be a Scourge Beast, though its head bore thick, curled horns of a ram and it balanced its body upright on its folded canid limbs quite stably. She wound her arm back and plunged the dagger with all her might into the nape of the beast’s neck.

It screamed with rage and swatted with long, clawed hand as it stood and spun around. The creature had no lips to cover the hideous wreck of misaligned pointed teeth, but its eyes possessed a clarity and consciousness she had never beheld in a beast.

It dodged and countered her attacks as shrewdly as a practiced duelist and struck a heavy blow on her thigh with its claws that opened a burning laceration which she punished with an uppercut slash over its ribs. Clutching the wound, the creature retreated and summoned two jets of roaring flames from its palms that she barely managed to avoid by rolling behind a crate of now incinerated potatoes. A beast with both sentience and pyromancy was utterly unprecedented.

Deep mortal fear and desperation pooled in her veins as she weaved by a hair’s breadth through its furious swings. An opening to its head flashed in a fraction of second a she struck out with all her resolve. A whip of black flame shot out from the end of her blade and sliced the creature’s head clean leaving a sickening odor of singed hair burned, putrid meat.

Her chest heaved as she gazed down at the beast bleeding out at her feet incredulous at what had just transpired. Ribbons of black shadow rose from the swelling pool of blood like rising steam and sudden flew into her like iron filings toward a magnet. She gasped at the electrical sensation of it and was horrified to see that the blood vessels on her arms flashed with inky darkness before fading to normal. She heaved open the tower gate and limped hurriedly up the stairs to abandoned hunters’ workshop in search of medical supplies to tend the gash on her leg and whatever sickness she had just absorbed into herself.

The double-doors revealed an overgrown and neglected garden surrounded by a ring of gnarled, ancient oaks in a small courtyard with the quaint, tasteful house at its center. To her great dismay, it appeared to devoid of supplies as its shelves stood empty. She wrenched open a glass cabinet and rustled throughs the messy stack of documents that lay inside out desperation and paused when she felt a cold, metallic object.

It was a merely a hair ornament, but its craftsmanship was exquisite and it seemed quite unfortunate that such a thing was left behind. It was surely important to someone. She pocketed it thinking it would perhaps make a suitable fine gift for Maria as its color would exquisitely pair with her moonlit hair. She flipped open the lid of a clothing trunk to find a finely made dress, shawl, and poke bonnet. She frowned and laid them back in the trunk perplexed. It did not seem like functional attire for a hunt.

A small lantern stood at the feet of the same robed Madonna that adorned the doors of the Pthumerian labyrinths and she plucked its chain wishing for more light in the dim interior. It shown with a curious violet light she had only seen before when exiting Maria’s nightmare. She backed away from it hoping she did not accidentally open a vortex into one. Her heel clipped something nearing making her stumble.

A life-size mannequin bearing the same attire she had found in the trunk lay propped up against a corner with her glass eyes half-lidded as if in light slumber. She knelt to closer inspect the doll. Her features appeared so eerily similar, no, identical to Maria’s. A pang of worry shot through her. Had Maria become trapped in her nightmare to leave behind this artificial husk transformed by some curse to wood and porcelain? How could this have happened? She lifted her hand to study its wooden articulations. It was simply impossible. The painted hand in delicate crotched gloves twitched, squeezing hers as if to acknowledge her. Indeed, she dreamed. 

“Maria, Maria! Please wake up,” she pleaded shaking the doll’s shoulder lightly making loll lifelessly side to side.

“Please…you must,” she shook more vigorously to no avail. Though she had spent an entire lifetime in the forest’s tender solitude, the thought of losing her dear companion and fending for herself in this fell city was unbearable. All consciousnesses travel in dreams. She had to uncover where hers had gone astray at any cost. She laid a hand upon the doll’s forehead and willed herself into the void.

OOOOOOO

Maria ascended the long ladder to the roof of a chapel whose name had been long forgotten having stood long before the advent of the Healing Church. Upon its tattered, tiled roof gargoyles rested and watched the paths of the sun and moon across the heavens or the stories of humanity that played out on the stage of the streets below from their repose. Amid them, she spied the familiar black-feathered cape of the huntress she sought. The huntress’s keen ears sensed her approach long before she announced her presence and she turned to face her most unexpected guest with a swish of the cape.

“Lady…Maria. Is that really you?” Her trained eyes sensed nothing in her gaze or body language that indicated that her long-lost companion had been taken by blood-drunkenness.

Maria began her Hunter’s Salutation, but the woman caught her mid-bow with a vigorous embrace clapping her back heavily as she returned it warmly.

“No need for that formal nonsense, dear friend.”

“Ah, Eileen, I’m so glad to have found you here,” Maria sighed relieved that her most trusted friend in the hunt has survived all these years despite how fate had taken them down separate paths. This rooftop in particular was her favorite respite due to the view of the city it lended. To be dwarfed by high edifices was not something she was accustomed to in the alpine steppes of her homeland.

She pulled off the beak mask to reveal new lines and grooves under her shining silver eyes and shocks of white streaks that now graced her raven hair.

“Well, the years sure have been much kinder to you,” The Crow remarked.

Maria rolled her eyes. “Perhaps on the outside, but otherwise…I have much to tell you,” she said, the brief levity transforming into a grave tone.

“I’m sure you do, surely this no meeting for idle chit-chat. Come and sit,” Eileen sat on the pedestal of one of the gargoyles and patted a spot beside her.

“Cigarette? I looted them off a blood-drunk hunter. Not a common find these days,” she offered rattling the box enticingly as Maria seated herself.

She hesitated, but then obliged. It was a gesture of unity and a small indulgence frowned upon as unbecoming for noblewoman of Cainhurst’s court. Yet, out here in the brutal chaos, she was free. Eileen presented her hand lantern to ignite them. The taste reminded her of the many nights they had spent at the tavern sharing embellished stories of their glorious beast hunts and laughing until their cheeks and sides ached as the rounds of ale made them giddily dizzy. She exhaled the memory and watched it fade away.

They talked at great length about the events that transpired since their parting. Maria confided about the Adeline, the Church, Cainhurst’s campaign to oppose them, Evetta, and even the orphaned little girl she had so painfully sent to Cathedral Ward just hours prior. The Crow nodded sympathetically.

“I had hoped this day would come. The hunting of hunters is my grim duty and it had been apparent to me that the cycle of the hunter and sickness cannot be permitted to go on forever. Whatever you require, I will be by your side,” she reassured Maria who smiled weakly.

“Do you know what happened to Djura? I know that he opposes the Church and left the hunt discontent with the hunt’s entire premise and his knowledge of weapons and artillery could be valuable. Does he live?”

“Oh yes,” Eileen confirmed with hoarse chuckle. “He has holed himself up on a tower in Old Yharnam with a gatling gun to defend the beast patients…He teeters on the brink of madness himself, but he may receptive to a more holistic solution to end the hunt.”

“We have to try,” Maria insisted.

“Very well. Old Yharnam awaits us, friend.” The old Crow rose and dusted of her cape and pulled her beaked mask over her weathered face.

OOOOOO

Evetta emerged from the void to find herself once more in the garden of the workshop. Though, in this dream, it had been transformed into a graveyard and the wilted greenery now thrived verdantly and bloomed into a thousands of small, star-like flowers. The moon loomed large and low in the sky and multitudes of strange stone pillars protruded from the endless sea of fog surrounding the garden. Strange as it was, she felt profoundly at peace here. As if something in the air meant to embrace and soothe troubled spirits. She spied the doll seated unsupported on a stone ledge at the base of the stairs to the workshop bowed forward with her heading hanging like a dew-heavy blossom. To Evetta suprise, the doll’s shoulders rose and fell steadily as she breathed. She extended a hand to hers cautiously to wake her. A surprised gasp came from the doll and her glass eyes flew open. Evetta jumped back in fright.

“Ah, a visitor, how unexpected…Forgive me, I must have drifted off,” she sighed as she rose to the same imposing height as Maria. Even her voice was identical, but bore a monotone quality as she enunciated every syllable individually.

“Maria? Don’t you remember me?” Evetta forced out imploringly. The doll merely tilted her head to the side.

“I know no one by that name and I am certain we have not met before. I am a Doll, here in this dream to look after beast hunters and soothe their sickly spirits. Each one of them I cherish dearly,” Her gazed graced the tombstones lovingly. “I would not forget a familiar face. How did you come to find yourself here, good visitor? I do not recall sending the Messengers to retrieve a new hunter.”

“Dolls don’t dream, or speak, or breathe…” Evetta said skeptically. “This may sound strange, but I found your body in the abandoned workshop in the waking world and I followed you here.”

“Dreams are strange, indeed. Just moments ago, I dreamed that I myself was a hunter. Can you imagine?” A gloved hand came to her lips to conceal a small laugh.

“I can, actually… You look and sound identical to a hunter I know. Are you sure you don’t know her? What if she is trapped here, perhaps deep in your mind? Please…try to remember,” She pleaded incredulous that Maria, or this dream projection of her had forgotten her identity.

The Doll shook her head softly. “I have no name. I am a doll created by humans to serve them. I cannot leave this dream to the waking world by any means. But, you are a peculiar one… You came not by the Blood or the path opened by Flora. You are not human, then.” A cool, demure smile stretched her lips.

“What do you mean?” An edge of irate confrontation tinged her tone. She tired of people keeping secrets from her as if she were too dimwitted to understand.

“No more human than I am merely a plain doll…We are much alike,” the knowing smile broadened. “I wish had the words to help you understand, but my vocabulary is limited to words I have heard from humans. I confess I know very little…I just…feel. And there is much knowledge unbound by the codes of language. I’m sorry,” she said softly and sincerely.

Deeply unsettled by this, Evetta glanced at her pocket-watch only to find that hands have stopped.

“Time passes very slowly in the Dream. Haste is unnecessary,” the Doll said nothing her surprise. “I could tend that wound, if you like.”

“I-I, okay. I would be grateful…” she stammered growing all the more wary of this Doll but she didn’t seem malevolent.

The Doll knelt and took her hands between her wooden ones. A warm, white light enveloped them and the sting of the gash on her thigh and the ache of the bruise on her arm melted away. Up close, she noted the Doll’s porcelain face bore hairline cracks from the corners of eyes that resembled rivulets of tears.

“Thanks. I could fix that…,” She gestured to her own face with a pointer finger. “…as a small thanks?” It pained her to see the visage of her love in a damaged state.

The Doll rose and shook her head. “That’s very kind, but you needn’t fret over me, good visitor. I can feel no pain.”

“Nonsense, I’ve seen the sealant use to repair fine porcelain in the castle before. It’s a trifling favor.”

“If it pleases you,” she surrendered indifferently.

“There is something else…When I killed this strange beast moments ago, I absorbed something from it. Something dark.That’s never happened after I’ve slain any other beast. Is something wrong with me? Will I become ill?” She queried desperately.

“Yes, I sensed it coursing your veins when you arrived. That is normal for one like you. It will not sicken you. Let it be your strength,” she soothed, though it left Evetta with more questions than answers.

“I…should be getting back,” she said defeated by the Doll opacity as confusion ate away at her hope for answers here.

“I trust you lit the lantern in the workshop?”

Evetta nodded.

“Good, Flora’s path will save your strength. You are always welcome to seek refuse here, too, if you like. I’d like to have a friend…Just focus on this rune with your heart and you’ll guided back to this dream.” she said meekly and produced a pendant bearing a curious rune that seemed vaguely familiar. The Doll guided her a tall tombstone and turned to face her with a tender sadness behind her stiff, glassy gaze.

“This gateway will bring you back to the workshop. Farewell good visitor. May you find your worth in the waking world…”

“Thank you, for everything. I will return,” Evetta promised.

She knelt at the tombstone and fell effortless into the abyss.

The workshop seemed even more eerily silent and grim when she materialized into the dim, dusty room. She made her way back to the tower despondent. Could Maria really be gone? Had her consciousness been dissolved into that Doll’s blending into an unrecognizable slush with the artificial mind that animated her? It would still be two hours before she was expected to reconvene with her at the gate. They passed agonizing slow as she strained to keep horrific visions of worst-case scenarios at bay. A motioning the distance beyond the gate snapped her out of troubled head-space.

An unknown masked figure with a swaying black cloak jogged towards the tower. Accompanying the figure was another. She recognized the bob of the feather adorning the tricorne hat instantly. Bursting with the relief so that she was close to weeping, she leapt up and waved her arms high in the air to beckon them at the gate.

“Oh, thank the stars you’re safe!” Evetta made to throw her arms around Maria when the two hunters neared to assure herself she was really there, but stopped short when she saw three red punctures in her vest. “You’re hurt…”

“Ah, it’s just a glancing hit,” Maria assured her embracing her tightly with one arm on her good side and caught the nostalgic scent of Church incense in her hair. Quicksilver bullets did little to harm flesh nourished by the Vilebloods’ undying blood.

“The former hunter Djura was not happy to see us as expected, but we struck a tenuous peace and that’s all we can ask, I suppose,” she said in a somewhat jovial tone to offset Evetta’s concern. Maria pulled away from the embrace and placed her hands on her shoulders to quickly scan her examining eyes over her from head to toe.

“Are you all right? Did you run into any trouble?” She asked noting her still terror-stricken gaze.

“I'm fine. I encountered a man of the Church in Oedon Chapel, but I simply told him I was looking for my cat and he let me be," She said nonchalantly wishing to minimize the memory of the insanity she had seen so that it would not detract from the joy of their reunion.

The concerned tautness in Maria’s features fractured as she laughed heartily. The shoulders of her cloaked compatriot shook with her low chuckles.

“This is Eileen the Crow, the best hunter I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”

“Oh, flattery…” The Crow scoffed. “Pleased to meet you, Evetta. Maria told me a lot about you. That’s quite a beast you felled there, congratulations,” she said cordially nodding with her unnerving beak mask to headless carcass strewn over the stonework.

“Yes, I guess it was…” Evetta rubbed arms nervously at the memory of the aftermath of that battle. “Pleased to meet you, too.”

“Shall we get moving homeward? An entrance to the deep roads lies not far from here,” Maria suggested; anxious to avoid lingering in such a place steeped in her darkest memories.

The two nodded in concurrence and they began their journey under the Healing Church’s looming shadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while! Yharnam is very complex and detailed place and I had a lot of fun exploring it with my imagination. I'd like to think that Alfred got pranked by Patches when he went out calling for the cat and that the little girl found that jolly good fellow, the Chapel Dweller. Can you imagine what tragic and morally complex existence it would be to have vampiric needs? Poor Maria... T.T


	11. No One's Doll

The hour was late when they returned to Cainhurst's comforting stony gloom. Isold greeted them and escorted Eileen up the stairs to her accommodations and Evetta and Maria ascended the opposite staircase towards the respite of sleep. Maria noted how firmly Evetta grasped her hand as she were afraid she would dematerialize before her eyes. She stroked the back of her hand with her thumb soothingly.

“Are you sure you’re all right? You seemed quite shaken at the tower…” she asked her softly when they had arrived to her chambers.

“I…there’s something you need to see; something from the abandoned workshop. It’s not…dangerous, per say. It’s just strange,” Evetta confessed carefully. Maria seemed intrigued but not alarmed. She produced the rune pendant the Doll had given her.

“I opened a passage to the workshop so I could retrieve it. In fact, it’s probably better if it remains here with us if there’s to be war.”

“Ah, so you’ve seen the Dream.” Maria said, her eyes glittering in recognition of the rune.

“I agree, any relic the workshop might have uncovered is likely safest here with us. I’ll await your return.”

Evetta nodded determinately and focused fervently on the rune and willed herself to the Dream from which she could access the lifeless workshop; disappearing into gentle violet light and abyssal smoke.

A few short moments later, she remerged in Maria’s chambers struggling to balance a long, canvas-wrapped figure that resembled a corpse. Maria rose with her brow furrowed and eyes ablaze with intrigue and wariness. Evetta set the figure down against the wall with a weary sigh. A two-meter long mannequin of solid wood and porcelain was a heavy burden. She unwrapped the canvas she had fitted around the Doll to protect her from damage carefully.

“What? What is this?” Maria asked incredulously at the sight of her artificial dopplegänger and knelt to inspect it.

“I thought she was you. I feared you might have been reduced to this state and unable to wake from some curse or nightmare. She’s…sentient and even dreams, so I followed her and came to the Hunter’s Dream,” Evetta explained.

Maria lifted the Doll’s gloved hand and dropped it with a gasp when it twitched. She stood and backed away from it. It was the first time Evetta had seen true fear twist Maria’s features.

“What is she? I just don’t understand how it’s possible for lifeless matter to dream. She speaks with your voice and when she dreams within the Dream…she dreams of you,” Evetta poured out her haunting questions. Maria’s eyes opened wider. She curled her lip before she hurled the canvass back over the Doll.

“I do not wish to look upon this…thing, any longer. I confess that I do not know how this is possible, either. Be very careful of the entities you put your trust in within dreams. Did she try to claim to be me?” Maria asked warningly.

“No, I even asked directly if she was you but she did not even recognize your name… She healed an injury I sustained from the beast in the tower and lead me back to the waking world which doesn’t lead me to believe she is there is to ensnare people. I feared that maybe your mind had been imprisoned within her and diluted with… something else, but what?”

Maria frowned and paused wracking her mind.

“There is only one person I know with the insight and craftsmanship skill capable of creating something like this. Gehrman…,” She said his name with a half-nostalgic sigh and half snarl.

“I have immense respect for everything that he has done to elevate the art of beast hunting and save countless human lives, but with time, I did notice he harbored certain obsessive tendencies towards female recruits. I’ve heard whispers of how he extorted favors of them…I suppose I was in denial assuming that our long partnership had placed me above such fantasies, but I see now that I was not immune. He created this _thing_ to _defile_ me for eternity in that wretched dream he created for himself,” Her tone was so fierce as she seethed in dishonor that Evetta feared she was strike the Doll to smithereens where she lay.

“Many upper-class friends I knew from school were married off to men that saw them as nothing other than plain dolls to please them…Marriage and kinship are very different in the court of the Vilebloods, so I was spared the same fate on the grounds of my sex. I thought Gehrman was different. Someone could see a woman as more than chattel as they’re too often regarded in Yharnam’s culture. A person who saw the goodness and strength in people regardless of their background in order to work towards saving lives, but here lies the _proof_ that I was mistaken after all these years and after all we accomplished! Secretly wishing me to be his obedient little doll…How utterly insulting,” Maria ranted indignantly.

Evetta gazed dismayed at the Doll as she contemplated her nefarious origins.

“Yet, in spite of all that, she is her own person. Trapped in the Dream alone hoping for those hunters to return and knowing there’s something more to this world while being unable to connect with it. Unable to express so many things. I…understand that.” Evetta contemplated also mentioning the Doll’s unsettling comment about an aspect she sensed Evetta shared with her, but fear of Maria’s reaction stilled her tongue.

Maria’s rage cooled. She hadn’t considered herself artificial self’s individuality and entirely different worldview. The thought was intriguing. She felt a pang of jealously that the counterfeit could better empathize with Evetta’s past than she could hope to. While she bore great compassion for the girl and the difficulties her background had burdened her with, she could not pretend to fully comprehend their ramifications as the their socialization, or lack of thereof, were so fundamentally dissimilar. She looped her arms around Evetta’s waist.

"I can imagine it was terrifying to think I had forgotten you. But I’m here, in the flesh, and I’m not leaving you,” she cooed.Evetta squeezed her firmly in acknowledgement. She smelled of gun powder and her Lumenflower perfume.

“You can play with me how you like…” Maria smirked suggestively. She would never be anyone’s Doll, but she found her heart was slipping precipitously into the girl’s clutches. Yet, for some reason, she welcomed it. It soothed her troubled spirit like sorely needed sleep overtaking her as ocean fog cloaked a worn ship tethered to the safety of a harbor.“I give you my permission.”

Evetta chuckled and smiled meekly before plucking Maria’s tricorne from her head and placing it on her own. “Well, in that case, I should like to undress you.”

“That, I would very much like,” Maria purred.

She began with her supple leather gloves; unbuckling the clasps and easing them from her forearms to admire her long, elegantly sculpted hands. She took one of them to her face to brush her cheek against the soft back of it and plant small kisses on each one of her fingers and the inside of her wrist. Maria’s fingers then gently encircled hers to guide them down her navel where the buckles of two thin belts rested. Her coat gaped a little wider with them removed and with a little help with the clasps at her collar, she was able to slide it off her shoulders. She hung it gingerly on the back of a nearby chair taking a moment to admire the golden filigree embroidery in the black leather and laid her tricorne on the seat.

“It’s a beautiful coat,” she remarked.

“Ah, thank you, I’m also very fond it.”

Evetta extended a hand up to Maria’s face and she obediently seated herself on the edge of the bed to give her a fairer reach. She traced her fingers softly over her delicate features kissing the wakes of her caresses tenderly. Maria leaned into her touch and allowed herself to become lost in the feeling being cherished by another; a feeling she thought was lost to her forever. Evetta spotted a rosy, sore-looking patch at her hairline.

“Hm, what happened here?” she queried.A blush creeped into Maria’s cheeks.

“I hit my head…on a door. It had been so long since I had been to Central Yharnam that I had forgotten to mind the lower thresholds.”

Evetta laughed softly and kissed her between in the eyes careful to avoid the tender spot. It was hard to imagine the poised, regal Lady Maria blundering into a doorframe.

“Oh, you poor, poor thing.” 

She knelt at her feet and began to unlace her tall boots. She made to peel away her woolen socks, but Maria flinched violently at her touch.

“I can’t guarantee your safety if you touch me there,” she said with another sheepish smile and stooped to pull them off herself. Her feet and ankles were just as elegantly formed as her hands and Evetta was strongly tempted to caress them as well, but heeded her warning and returned to her face to sear a heavy kiss into her lips. Her hand grazed the buttons of her vest gingerly and she was shocked to see that the bullet wounds she had seen hours earlier had now vanished.

“Wow, it’s healed already?” she remarked as she worked the buttons apart.

“Mm-hmm. Nothing to fret over,” Maria murmured into the crook of her neck.

“Good.”

Evetta found that her hands trembled as she kissed the newly exposed skin of her upper body after removing her white linen shirt and jabot. It felt simply surreal to hold such beauty in her arms and under her roaming lips. She inhaled the scent of her skin deeply. She traced a long, raised claw-mark scar that ran from her ribs to her loin and paused hesitantly when she came to the buckle of her trousers. Maria gave her a reassuring nod prompting her to unfasten them and draw them away from her sculpted thighs leaving her in only her small clothes. Evetta rested her forehead against hers and closed her eyes to calm her galloping heart as she smoothed her hands over her bare shoulder blades. Maria’s hands slid up her hips and interlaced at the small of her back to pull her over onto the bed when she could stand the minuscule distance between them no longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will elaborate on how marriage and kinship in the matriarchal Vileblood court works in a later chapter where it ties into my lore theory! Stay tuned ^^


End file.
